


Case 5: Echoes of Taipei

by Fanficanatic



Category: Great Pretender (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boys Kissing, Coffee, Coffee Be Mad Hard To Describe, Coffee Critic Edamura Makoto, Coffee Shops, Descriptive Passages, Drama & Romance, Drunken Kissing, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, French Kissing, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Laurent Thierry Is A Flirt, Light Angst, M/M, Original Con, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Post Case 4, Post-Canon, Romance, Spoilers for entire show, Tags May Change, Teasing, Unhealthy Relationships, World Travel, original case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 42,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26701246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanficanatic/pseuds/Fanficanatic
Summary: Edamura Makoto wants to do nothing more than use some of his well-earned con money to go on a lavish coffee adventure around the world, free of his criminal struggles from over the past few years, before settling down somewhere nice and quiet. Especially keeping away from a tenacious blonde bastard.But during a visit to a charming coffee shop in the outskirts of Taipei, Taiwan, he meets a rather captivating woman standing next door, tears rolling down her cheeks as she watches a cruel man take away her family's workplace and the entire neighborhood's as well to build a new factory for bubble tea distribution... or so he says. Edamura said he wouldn't go back to the con life, but what harm would it do to help out such a kind woman and her adoptive parents? But there's a nagging feeling in the back of his head that won't go away the more he learns about her and her troubling past. It doesn't help that he feels like he's seen the shiny ring glinting brightly on her finger before...
Relationships: Edamura Makoto & Abigail Jones, Edamura Makoto & Cynthia Moore, Edamura Makoto & Laurent Thierry, Edamura Makoto/Laurent Thierry
Comments: 46
Kudos: 304





	1. CASE 5_1: You're Brew-tiful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New story, new fun!
> 
> Great Pretender now sits in my top 10 favorite anime of all time. WIT Studio really hit it out of the park with this original adaptation and I cannot believe how good everything came out to be. The music was great, the characters were phenomenal, and the cons were wacky as all hell. Like, building/painting a replica building on a deserted island in that amount of time? Now THAT'S IMAGINATIVE.
> 
> This starts off right where the show ends off. If you follow me on Twitter ([@f_fnatic](https://twitter.com/f_fnatic)), you'll know I've had this whole theory about how the ending just sets it up perfectly for a movie scenario and this is my interpretation of how the movie could go (maybe a bit less PG than the one WIT Studio may produce, but who cares 👀).
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Check notes at the end for more.

“Hi. You must be dying of boredom right now.”

Just seeing the accursed name flit across his phone screen completely cut through the slight happiness that filled his body when Abby’s photo appeared in his messages. Edamura didn’t know why he accepted the call, maybe because he was mad that this was the first time after the con that the man was contacting him and his need to yell his feelings out hadn’t been satiated. But hearing the French drawl on the other end after that one sentence filled him with a burning annoyance. Before his mind could catch up to his movements, he had the phone right next to his ear.

“No! I’m actually fine, you blond bastard! I’m in Japan trying to live my life and you calling me is interrupting my research!” Edamura screeches into the phone, surprising the coffee shop owner in front of him considerably.

“Now, now, Edamame, don’t be so mad!” Laurent says with a smirk on his face, the cheers of the crowd drowning out his end a little bit. “I’m just wondering if you’d like some company on your fun coffee excursions. I can wrack up some vacation days and we could try some drinks together. You know, drink a cup in Rome, sip something nice in Wellington, I’d love to-”

“Stop,” Edamura abruptly cuts him off. "You already think I’ve forgiven _you_?”

Edamura’s words ring icily throughout the quaint shop. He lets out a shuddering sigh of barely contained rage and looks up to the kind Okinawan man in front of him, him looking in his direction with an afraid glance before averting his eyes. He probably couldn't understand his English but he could definitely recognize the international signals that someone was about to flip out. The ex-confidence man gives an apologetic look to the owner before shuffling his way out of the shop, letting him know, in Japanese, that he will be right back.

There are not enough words in the English OR Japanese vocabulary to express the anger flowing through Edamura’s body. Just a few weeks ago he had gotten done with one of the most traumatizing experiences in his life. His emotions had been deadened because he had heartlessly sold children, fucking _children_ , to people all over Asia for the sole fact that he had believed he was the cause of his teammate’s deaths. Numbed because he was the one responsible for putting a bullet through Cynthia and Abigail. Watched unfeelingly as his father’s body dropped limp into the Pacific Ocean with a bullet he provided himself. 

The overflow of emotions stemming from seeing all of them alive again was like being lifted out of a hole that he'd been buried in alive. Not realizing he had been suffocating under massive pressure and his lungs gasping for air and his hands clawing for a way out until it came rushing back to him in exhausting bursts of energy. Happy they were alive. Relieved he wasn't a murderer. Irritation at being left out of the plans once again.

And most of all, anger.

Anger at being conned once again, anger at himself for letting those poor kids be sold off to the elite, anger at his dad for trying to console him like he was still a child, and absolute rage at being treated as Laurent’s toy. Yelling his true feelings at Laurent and his father had been extremely cathartic, but did they really expect him to become buddy-buddy once more after years of abuse and lies?

His father, an actually decent human being, had gone to jail for one of the worst crimes in humanity to protect his own teammates. Laurent went on to complete the task of finding worthy confidence artists to help aid him in revenge for what the Shanghai mafia did to the carefree Dorothy. Shi-Won tagged along with the blonde con-artist on most cons because she knew that he couldn’t be left alone to deal with the fallout of losing his lover.

It's sad that he still believes what he said back at the fake tower to be true. Con artists being lone wolves was a massive lie, a bunch of narcissists working together conning the rich in what they believed to be faux justice.

He never wants to deal with Laurent's antics again. He is tired, purely tired, of being treated as someone incompetent, a liability. The amount of ‘trust’ Laurent had in Makoto was heavily outweighed by the trickery and duplicity of his actions over the past four years. He wanted to bring him back each time because what? He wanted something interesting on his cons, someone to make fun of, a nice outlier that he wouldn’t be able to predict? He'd heard from Ozaki how Laurent called him a "two-bit" swindler, someone he had to put in their place. Wasn't he the one to put him there in the first place? Edamura is done with that manipulative bullshit and now Laurent is pushing his buttons far too early in the day, no, the entire week, no, this entire _year_ to suggest anything like going out for a cup of coffee. That was the extent of how much he did not want to deal with the sleazy buffoon. He’d make the French man repent for what he did.

They were not friends.

“Laurent, get this through your thick skull. I will never, ever voluntarily go out of my way to hang out with you. Call me if you want and I'll let it ring on. Text my number and I'll leave you on read. Maybe try taking a hint and focus on something that isn’t related to my life?” Makoto waits patiently after he bites back with his poisonous response, waiting for the blonde man to respond with something lighthearted, a taunt, or a coo of disappointment. All he hears from the line is a distant cheering in the background and Laurent’s steady breathing. Finally, he makes out a heavy sigh.

“Alright, Edamame. I’ll keep my distance. See you later.” A beep on the call signals that the man on the other side hung up, leaving Edamura standing stupidly with a phone near to his ear next to a couple of colorful tables outside the cafe.

The Japanese man is shocked at how calm and understanding Laurent sounded. It was as if he expected to get rejected so quickly. That only gets his mind angry again. How dare he try to call him like he’d forgive him so easily? Did he want Makoto to be mad at him? Did he live and breathe for the sole purpose of riling up his blood pressure? He takes a couple of deep breaths to calm down. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Once he feels significantly more serene, he stomps back to the coffee shop and sees the owner staring back at him quite curiously, almost with a glint of pity. Edamura immediately dismisses the thought of it as his back straightens and he bows low towards the owner, bellowing his apologies.

“ごめんなさい! 本当にごめんなさい! ご迷惑めいわくをおかけして、申もうし訳わけございません!” [ _I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I apologize for the inconvenience caused!_ ]. Makoto stumbles around his words, the blush on his face from embarrassment at his tone used when he initially picked up the phone. It must have looked extremely disrespectful to the older man.

The older man just smiles and pats his leg, looking a bit relieved now. “全然大丈夫です。 あなたは怒る正当な理由があったと確信しています。” [ _It’s alright. I’m sure the other person deserved it._ ] 

Makoto nods and sits down again, looking around the coffee shop once more. It was a really nice shop, with comfy long seats embedded into the trailer and the walls a rich yellow, full of optimism and warmth. The cup of coffee he had was also refilled, which was a blessing because the taste of it was splendid. Nice and lightly-roasted with a toasted toffee scent, a nippy start that bleeds into a sweet full finish, all with creamer and sugar cubes on the side in case he needed to thin it out (which wasn’t necessary because the coffee was too good to be desecrated like that). This place was one of the only shops in Okinawa to sell exclusively coffee and not their widely famous milk tea, allowing for the owner to really go in-depth on his supplier and selection process and how he came to appreciate the art of the brew.

Hours pass as the two of them discuss various types of beans and coffee and methods that best drew out coffee flavors (Makoto was a fan of the tried and true pour over while the man stuck by his guns with his ancient Moka pot). It is only when the sun is beginning to set when Edamura asks the question he has been dying to say the entire time.

“Where was the last place you had a really good cup of coffee?”

The older man looks at his Moka pot and laughs before recommending Makoto to a fine cafe in Noto, Italy that he visited 25 years ago. He mentions offhandedly that he hasn’t been there in 15 years but a quick Google Search finds it to be still open and extremely popular. He explains to the young coffee explorer how he had gotten one last cup of coffee by chance at a newly opened cafe just hours before his flight home. The taste of it had impacted him so much that he bought a Moka pot, the one sitting on the table, next door and opened a shop and to this day still dreams of going back. 

This is what Edamura had been wanting to hear. He's going to go on a coffee telephone adventure around the world and taste the best of what the owners have, then go and taste the best of what they have had. He wasn’t going to open his own shop just yet (and prove that French asshole right in that he, in fact, did want his own shop). He wanted to see how coffee has made these people’s lives happier and how they have been affected by it. Hearing Akemi mention how he helped her enjoy coffee more after trying his own made him sure of the fact that there were others who might be just like that. People who learned to love something they disliked in the past. People who changed their ways and became coffee lovers. He was going to achieve just that.

Somewhere almost 12,310 kilometers away from Okinawa, Japan, one French man turns off his phone and pulls out a gacha toy from his pocket. He sighs wistfully as he leans against the pillar, knocking his head against it as thousands of people cheer loudly for the man in front of him.

* * *

Noto, Italy has equally fine cups, or shots, of _caffè espresso_ just for him. A charred, bitter texture fills his mouth before tartness flies across his tongue with a hint of a juicy blackberry aftertaste. The owner, a thin man with leathery hands and smiles lines carved into his skin, even suggests eating them with his signature creamy jumble berry cheesecake, on the house, which accentuates its acidic saccharine flavors even more. The region down here is not known for their berry production, so it shocks Edamura how he can supply himself with divine tart treats such as the cake. He recalls to Makoto as he dines about how he used to live up north and how he alone would travel almost 80 kilometers to the best berry farm in the countryside as a teenager. Bringing some back home on a cart, he'd make this very cheesecake with his mom once he got home. The idea to open his own shop came when he was able to visit Poland for a cup of coffee that had tasted exactly like his mom’s cake and he needed to share these flavors with others down south. His sons and daughters, living back up in his hometown, recommend him to the locals who'll ship him quality ingredients for cheap. Edamura nods and smiles at the response, entranced at the atmosphere of family that surrounded this place.

The Japanese man takes a picture of the delicious food and scenery laid out in front of him then sends it to all of his previous members of the confidence team, barring Laurent. Knowing him, he would just re-engineer the background and contact each teenager in the group by the bush to find out where he went. It was petty, he knows, but he doesn’t care. He leaves the cafe with the shopkeeper's recommendation to Turin, Italy and a phone number, satisfied with the experience. A little spring in his step, he seemingly misses the old man remark on how nice Koreans are these days.

The day before he leaves for Turin, however, his suspicions become true. A message appears on his phone screen while he packs his suitcase.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_Edamame, you leave for Italy right when I suggest you and I go to Rome? Aren’t you being a little too obvious? *insert image*_

It was the image of him and his food. He sends back a heated response, fingers mashing his touchscreen.

[From: Edamame]

_Who the fuck gave you that photo? I’ll delete everyone’s number off my phone and you’ll never hear from me again._

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_I thought you'd block my number if I texted you or was that another one of your bad lies?_

_And it was Cynthia. And Abby. And Kudo. And Oz. You even sent the photo to Shi-Won! If you’re going to send it to people you and I both know, of course they’re going to circulate it back to me, my little soybean._

[From: Edamame]

_Dumbass bitch, I said that to deter you. Even if I blocked you I'm sure you have my phone number saved to, like, 20 other burners._

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

 _You know me so well, soybean._ 😚 _I'll be sure to receive anymore photos from you from the others we know._

[From: Edamame]

_(҂⌣̀_⌣́) Jesus Christ, I hate all of you. Especially you, Laurent. Keep your distance, remember?_

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

 _Yes, I know. Invite me next time. See you later._ ❤❤❤

[From: Edamame]

 _As if, jackass!_ 🖕🏼

On the other hand, Turin’s coffee starts off rough, salty, and slightly acrid, surprising Edamura the first time it touches his taste buds. He had been expecting a flavor similar to _caffè macchiato_ , judging by the deep brown roast surrounding a small dollop of cloudy foam in the middle of the cup. For a second, he is almost disappointed in the man in Noto.

Almost.

After only a quick five seconds, his hand reaches back and he begins sipping at it more vigorously. It's just as addictive as the previous two coffees. The main selling point, Edamura finds, is in its delayed distribution of a rich chocolatey texture, velvety across the tongue, which washes away the previous flavors and leaves behind just a hint of the bland cream in his mouth like an intense hot chocolate. Not surprising, however, as the Nutella culture certainly has its hold in Turin. This shop is also known for providing a decadent feast for the sweet-toothed as he tries the coffee with a selection of bread, cookies, and fruits available to be dipped in chocolate-hazelnut fondue. Edamura has to hold back his sobs at how delicious the gooey chocolate is with his drink and calls one of his contacts immediately to have someone to share his feelings with.

“Edamame! How’s Italy treating you?” 

“It’s so good! Oh god, it’s so good.” Cynthia is definitely surprised to hear sobbing on the other end despite his enthusiastic response. She knew the man was afraid of heights but to be afraid of coffee was unheard of.

“That’s great! But... why are you crying?” 

Cynthia’s curiosity leads her down a rabbit hole of trying to understand Makoto’s still tricky English accent through his joyful tears. Edamura’s explanation of the food entertains her as well, trying to explain how the ‘pungent’ coffee pairs perfectly with the ‘flaky exterior’ of the buttered bread and how the chocolate fulfills the role of ‘umami’ despite not being something umami at all. He sounds like one of those pretentious art critics, to the likes of Coleman, but so unlike them in the fact that his appreciation for the food is entirely genuine and without underlying intentions.

“It’s a really good place! I need to take you here if we ever get the chance to meet up! What are you doing right now?”

“Well, I’m currently visiting a mutual friend of ours in the States with Kawin while we go on an art tour. I’d bring him across Europe but he’s never been outside of Eurasia so I want to treat him, the poor lad.”

Makoto’s eyes widen as he hears she’s meeting up with a friend. What if she’s with Abigail in Nevada? That would be so nice since it’s been a while since he’s heard from the ferocious girl.

“Oh, okay! Let’s do a voice call then!” Edamura taps his screen with his free hand and looks at his phone excitedly, ready to see Abigail. A few moments later, the screen begins moving and he can see Cynthia holding her phone horizontally to get the widest view of her surroundings using her front camera. Kawin, the small boy from the auction house, moves alongside her left in the streets of some city.

And on their right, lo and behold, is Laurent Thierry idly strolling beside them in what he now recognizes as downtown Washington D.C.

"NOOOOOOO!"

His scream of pure terror pairs with him immediately turning off his front camera, muting himself, and throwing the phone in his backpack with precise aim, causing the ancient lady behind the counter to jerk in surprise and look at him with a bewildered stare. Grabbing his face in his hands and thrashing around in anguish, he whips his death glare, which had been directed at the phone, to her momentarily and she yelps before escaping behind a wall. His fondue sits in front of him, bubbling steadily like the bubbling anger in his stomach. Why the hell did Laurent always have to appear each time he went to a new city? All he wanted to do was drink coffee and talk to people. He even called Cynthia because he wanted someone familiar and nice to talk to about his food, but the French playboy seemed to be everywhere he went!

Sadly, he still has his wireless headphones on and he could hear outright laughter coming from the other end. Cynthia is howling into the speaker, probably catching the attention of quite a few passersby in the United States. Edamura huffs to himself as he grabs the coffee in front of him and sips aggressively. He could only hear Cynthia laughing so he only assumed Laurent was not in on the call.

“Oh, god, Laurent, come here. No, come here while I get the tickets, it’s hilarious! I have just the thing to cheer you up.” Makoto groans as he hears shuffling through his headphones and someone’s delighted gasp on the other end. He picks up on how the phone had transferred ownership and is now in the French man’s slimy grasp. What he doesn’t pick up on until it starts pouring into his ears is the sultry tone of voice that violates his eardrums.

“ _Oh, Edamame, how I’ve missed you..._ ” Makoto shrieks loudly once more as he throws his headphones into his bag too before he could hear the words move forward, catching even more stares from not just the quivering cashier behing the wall but the people in the back baking goods. He nods slowly in their direction, mentally noting how he’d give them extra money for dealing with his insane behavior, and fishes the headphones and phone out of his bag. He puts them on and turns his camera back on just as Laurent was apparently finishing his speech.

“ _...please, let me know where you go next, Edamame. I would love to share some chocolate fondue with you, mon ch_ _ér_ _i._ ” The Japanese man sighs and looks right into his camera, a disappointed glare on his face at the beaming white man in a tidy brown suit.

“I threw my headphones into my bag as soon as you started speaking. I heard not a word you said.” Laurent’s face is worth the insult as Edamura begins cackling at the affronted look on him. He continues eating at his delicious dessert, picking a banana up and dunking it as Laurent begins speaking once more but this time in a less sexual manner.

“It's fate, my little soybean. The world is telling us to make up. I want to eat with you Edamame. Just one cup of coffee with you, please. Just one.”

“No.”

“Aw, don't be like that, Eda-”

“No.”

"But I truly miss you, my l-"

"No." Makoto had propped his head on the table by now, staring out the window with a bored glance. The French man would get the message soon enough.

“Edamura.” Makoto glances at the screen again, surprised at hearing Laurent say his name correctly for the first time. The blonde man’s face is still slightly playful, a smirk falling on it rather easily. His eyes, however, his infuriatingly entrancing blue eyes, are serious. Usually, during their past cons, they’d be light and airy, almost reflective of the blonde’s airheaded persona. But now, they hold a storm just aching to be loosed, something that might become dangerous if Makoto leaves it be for a while. He looks at the storm in its eyes and glares daggers.

“Yes, Laurent?”

Laurent, sighing in relief now that he has Edamura’s attention, looks into the screen again with a pleading pout. “I can’t keep my distance from you anymore. You already left me for two years in jail once. Please, Edamame, let me know when we can meet up. I have a week saved for travel already. I would love to see you again.”

“Why bother when you can just ask one of your connections where I go?”

“Because I want you to start trusting me.” Trust? The bubbling inside of Edamura increases with the word. It hadn’t even been two weeks since Noto and the bastard was already vying for his trust?

“Now you want me to trust you? Now you want me to just let you in so you can stomp over my emotions again? Cause another ruckus that I’ll have to deal with myself? Well, tough shit!” His words are whispered heavily but Makoto could feel the worried glance of all the workers inside the shop, catching all of his intense movements with rapid eyes. On the outside, he looks absolutely furious.

On the inside, he’s a mess. Edamura doesn't like it but knows he’s just elongating the inevitable. He’s going to one day meet Laurent, the blonde man will talk him through some emotions that he expressed during the heist and unmentioned ones that have yet to be opened up about, then they’ll shake hands and be on their merry way. It was inevitable and he knew it was inevitable because he felt in his gut that he’d forgive him. He hated how correct Laurent had been back when they met in Los Angeles, how he mentioned so casually, while eating buttered lobster, that he was trying to act like a bad boy when really he was innocent and kind. It burned his heart in the worst way possible because he wanted to be able to hold onto this one grudge and fly off the handle each time the French man crossed his vision and entered his ear and texted him. The Suzaku Empire was the closest he’d gotten to fulfilling that grudge. Those months messed him up so badly that he wanted to wring the life from the blonde man. But it wasn’t something that was in Makoto’s blood. He couldn’t even bear to stay angry at his dad when he found out that he did in fact visit his mom during her final months. He could never let his emotions overtake him like that again, he was too genuine.

And he hates that about himself.

He stares back into the phone screen and immediately regrets it when he sees the disheartened look in the bastard's face. And _fuck_ , the bastard is pouting now.

“Edamura, I just want to hang out. We don’t have to discuss anything. I just want to see you. I miss you.” The crack in Edamura’s heart grows larger as he hears the man beg to him so softly, so seriously, so calmly. His carefully woven honeyed words making it hard to keep his facade. It cools his emotions, despite how much his insides were screaming to stay livid. He couldn’t deal with this extra baggage right now.

“Give me one moment.” Edamura hangs up the call and walks up to the owner, who with just his luck is the cashier he spooked terribly. He smiles nervously at the Italian woman, looking around her late seventies with curly white hair. She watches him warily and trembles like a leaf in the wind, almost expecting the Korean man in front of her to throw something in her direction or yell loudly. He gives her a remorseful smile and asks her where she had her last good cup of coffee in the world.

She responds.

Edamura nods in affirmation and returns to his table. He scrolls to his contacts and sees Laurent’s name shining right in front of him. His thumb hovers over the name, the word almost beckoning him to touch it. What good would seeing the bastard again do for his psyche? He had never heard the man say sorry, so maybe hearing him say it to his face would help them both move on? But had he already moved on from Dorothy? He wasn’t sure now.

Regardless, he has a choice to make.

Meanwhile in Washington D.C, Cynthia is busy pointing out multiple art pieces to Kawin and keeping an eye on Laurent who gives smiles to the statues around him with an empty look to his eyes. The one day he is able to come and hang out with her, and Edamame of all people had to call. She knew something dramatic would happen when she opened her phone and let it play out accordingly, making sure to capture it all with video recording. Edamame’s face when he saw Laurent would forever be on her camera roll.

But just as she is about to pull Kawin (and Laurent by extension) over to the next exhibit, she sees the tall man pull out his phone and a huge grin pops up on his face. Quietly, still holding her phone, she snaps a photo of the blonde man. A minute follows by as she waits with bated breath for her friend to finish his phone call. As he hangs up, the blonde man jaunts up to Cynthia and ruffles Kawin’s hair fondly. She raises an eyebrow at him curiously.

“So, I’m guessing Edamame came around?”

“Oh, yes he did. Can’t help my natural charm, it comes in handy every time.”

“This is why no one ever likes you, playboy. Especially your favorite snack.” Cynthia says as she rolls her eyes.

Laurent presses a hand to his chest. “You wound me with your cold words once again.”

“Where to then?”

Laurent smiles his trademark smirk, pointing at Cynthia and winking. “Cape Town.”

* * *

An hour passes as Makoto sits inside the food court of Cape Town International Airport, shielded from the hot South African sun, looking up and down the aisles for a familiar pink Hawaiian shirt. Both places the Italian woman had recommended were actually run by close friends of hers that she had met back during her own coffee adventures and operated near to each other. One was situated in metropolitan Cape Town for coffee and the other in Stellenbosch for wine, a nice change of pace, which they were both expecting to see him within the week. His plan was that he had only told Laurent about the one in Cape Town and would sneak off a couple of days later to enjoy some fine wine without the presence of a wine snob like the French man. He would only be a buzzing fly in his ear at that point.

Sitting in his seat drinking a cold bottle of water, Makoto fails to notice familiar large hands clamp down on his shoulders. He yelps in surprise and turns around to find that, yes, it was indeed Laurent Thierry and he was in fact wearing his pink Hawaiian shirt and khaki pants. Edamura scowls as he remembers this was the get-up he got conned in the first time they met. The man wears the look like a natural, being able to blend into the tourist crowd so easily that Edamura could not notice him if he tried. The image of Laurent was a true embodiment of the word ‘dorky’, to a T, yet it made the man look more handsome than most of the people in the airport. It was a conundrum that stumped the Japanese man even to this day, glaring up at the French man in question who beamed down at him like he was the light of his world.

“ _Hola, Edamame! Qué tal?"_

Before he could respond with a despondent ‘I’m good, go jump off a cliff’, Edamura feels something soft press against his cheeks. Wait, his cheeks? It lasts a moment before releasing him. He touches the side of his face and looks back up at Laurent, who has the same exact expression of a cat who ate the canary, licking his own.

Laurent Thierry had just kissed him.

Almost immediately, Edamura shoots up and uppercuts the blonde flirt in the stomach, winding it back and forcing all his strength into the punch as if he was Luffy and Laurent was the Celestial Dragon. It seems Laurent was expecting just the punch but not the impact, so he doubles over in pain while all the tables around him seem to gather their attention at him.

“Oh my god, you scared me! Here, let’s go to the restroom!” Edamura begins speaking in choppier English that usual as he grabs Laurent by the waist and hauls him over his shoulder. He starts apologizing fervently as everyone diverts their attention away from the dangerous Japanese man who had socked the ever-living shit out of the French man. Apology after apology comes until they arrive at a deserted airport hallway away from most travelers. He finds a bench and, as soon as he is out of line of sight, catapults the French man onto the bench. His seething mood is now displayed proudly on his face.

“Are you trying to make me pissed off? Who the _FUCK_ told you to do that?” He had been around the French man for 2 minutes and he had already pissed him off. He knew he was a horndog of a human being but to kiss him on the lips as soon as he arrived? That was something he did not approve of, not one bit.

Laurent is heaving on the bench, looking worse for wear but a smile still spreading on his face. “I couldn’t help myself, Edamame. Our reunion had me overwhelmed with joy.” He tries to sit up but he gasped and laid back down, once more trying to catch his breath. “You sure know how to pack a mighty punch.”

“I thought you would have learned when I decked you back in Japan but here we are, repeating the same mistakes.” Edamura’s cold words blanket over Laurent and he relaxes his body on the bench, staring into the Japanese man’s eyes before rolling up and into a sitting position, a hand still on his stomach. His expression softens as he roams his eyes over Edamura.

“I’m glad to see you again, Edamame.”

“The sentiment is not received. Our ride is here, so let’s go to the hotel.” Laurent nods and tries to get up but fails at the resounding pain in his stomach. Edamura, now feeling a bit more guilty than he did 20 seconds ago, rushes over to his side and helps the man to his feet. The both of them return to the food court where, miraculously, no one has stolen their luggage. Laurent insists on checking his luggage and once making sure no one had stolen a thing, they go off on their way.

The ride to the hotel is awkward, to say the least. The cab driver is fine with the both of them sitting in the back, but Laurent, still recuperating from being hit like a punching bag, decides not to lean against the hot plastic on the side of the cab but on Edamura himself. Unfortunately, he gets shoved off his shoulder rather forcefully and onto the hot window, but decides to lull back and forth between Makoto’s comfortable shoulder blade and getting pushed back onto the window.

They arrive at the hotel and, at the moment, it seems that Laurent is not aching as badly as he was an hour before. He steps gracefully out of the car and looks up at the five-star hotel that Edamura has chosen for both of them. The hotel stands high in the sky, overlooking both the Atlantic Ocean and the Indian Ocean with beachside access to the Atlantic. The entrance to the hotel is nice and air-conditioned, high ceilings adorned with intricately cut wood support beams and gleaming bronze chandeliers. The floor is spacious, save for a couple of fine leather couches and a check-in counter made of African blackwood. The South African flag hangs behind the front desk in a splash of color against the rustic modernism of the hotel with the hotel concierges also adorning vivid uniforms that match the flag. One such person, a black male with a practiced smile and multiple gold rings on his fingers fitted in a traditional African dress uniform, comes over quickly.

“Welcome to Ubukumkani Resort, the Kingdom of Cape Town. Sirs, welcome to our hotel. How may I help you?” The man states with a wide grin, apparently eager to help them out. Edamura smiles back at him and asks to be brought to the front desk and to check-in. Laurent whines way too close to his ear once he finds out they would be not sharing the same room until a swift kick to the back of the taller man’s legs silences him. For now.

Edamura had been following a concise plan for the past few coffees he’s tasted. Visit the city, try the coffee, stay there for a week to relax, and play tourist, then fly off to the next place recommended. It had worked well for the past month and a half of him traveling on his own all across Japan's small hole-in-the-walls right to the tip near Okinawa, then Italy. Now he is in South Africa with Loser Thierry and he wants to get the trip over and done with as quickly as possible. He’d enjoy discovering the oceanside activities of Cape Town and go on a more extensive wine tour of Stellenbosch if he had the chance, but dealing with Laurent for the next couple of days without the excuse of a con to keep him out of line of sight? Near impossible.

They were set to visit the coffee shop in two days and, for Edamura only, the winery in four. The old lady in Italy, who became much nicer once she found Makoto to not be an absolute asshole who purposely disrupted the sanctity of her quiet coffee shop but a kindred spirit on the quest to find a good cup of joe, let her friends know that he would be coming and they vowed to go above and beyond to ensure that he would enjoy their respective brews and fermentation. The entire coffee shop would be closed early in the morning and he’d be allowed in to get a taste of their newly shipped coffee beans and fresh pastries. It was like he was a renowned coffee critic now! However, the coffee shop owner declined to give him a personal number or even a name for contact keepsake because frankly, she was still too terrified of him despite his polite requests.

Over the next two days, Edamura (and Laurent, who insisted his need to adhere to Makoto’s ass like Flex Tape to a cracked glass container) visited all the tourist attractions of Cape Town including Kirstenbosch Botanical Garden and the Camps Bay Beach that lined the Atlantic shore. Laurent cheekily remarked as they walked beside the beach how they should go on an excursion together and dive deep into the ocean with white sharks. He’d protect him, Laurent had said grinning.

Edamura as he heard this stopped, glanced at him with a once-over, and replied, “I think I’m fine. A certain white shark already seemed to drown two of my friends in the past.”

Laurent was silent the rest of the walk back, Edamura’s smirk burning a hole into his neck.

Finally, the fateful day arrived. The Japanese man wakes up bright and early, having gone to sleep at 8 PM the night before to wake up bright and early to get to the coffee shop. He dresses and washes up in an incredibly quick amount of time before rushing to Laurent’s door and knocking on it, a smile plastered on his face.

“Hey, Laurent, time to get up! We have to be there by 5:30 AM if we want to get the coffee!”

No response. Edamura gives a knock again, a bit too chipper to allow someone like Laurent to ruin his day so early. Once more. No response. And so he again gives more tries. If truth be told, it was quite hilarious to be continuously knocking on the other man’s door, relishing in the fact that he now held the power between them and the possibility that he might be slightly ticking the French man off. Was this what Laurent felt for the first few years of knowing him? If so, it was helping purify Makoto’s soul to its previous pure state before he ever did conning. When he was about to knock for the fifth time, the door slams open, and out walks one very pissed Laurent. 

Nude as the day he was born.

Now, it was not as if Makoto _knew_ he was naked. While he was knocking, he had closed his eyes and sung out to the door in the hopes he’d be able to wake his despondent partner. Once the door opened, he stood back with his eyes still closed, a cheeky grin on his face. 

On the other hand, Laurent had been rudely awakened by the very first knock, mind racing as he imagined it to be a figmentational Dorothy returning to him before remembering where he was and what he had done for her. Once that spun through his brain a few times like a computer loading symbol, he attempted to fall back asleep when he heard not one more series of knocks, not two more, but _four_ more consecutive series of loud, maddening, sleep-disrupting knocks. Whoever this was, they did not realize it took time for him to get in the mood to be as charming as he is. Ire filled his body as he rushed to open the door, ready to bite the head off of the insolent person behind it who decidedly thought 4:17 AM was a great time for him to wake up on such a lovely day. And so, Edamura grinned, eyes closed as Laurent pulls back the door, eyes crazed and hair mussed.

“Finally, Mr. Thierry, I thought you’d never pick up! We have an arrangement this morning to drink some coffee. Please get ready,” Edamura rings out like an overly cheery neighbor, ready to start the day. Laurent lets out an angry groan and slaps his face around a bit, trying to wake himself up. He narrows his eyes at Makoto and lets out a resigned huff.

‘Yes, Edamame. Anything else you’d like to report?” 

“Nope, just wanted to know why you took so lo- AHHHH! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOUR CLOTHES!” Near the end of his sentence, Edamura opens his eyes to soak in the probably angry look of the man in front of him. Except, he soaks in the very angry look of the man in front of him and so, so much more than he had ever hoped for. His virginal eyes sting as he backs into a wall, sucking in large amounts of air at the sight of a naked Laurent Thierry that he is unable to pry his gaze from, eyes flitting everywhere. Meanwhile, the French man is unperturbed, if not slightly amused at the expected reaction.

“Did anyone ever tell you to wait a couple of seconds before knocking? It was like you were using my door as a percussion instrument.” 

“PUT SOME GODDAMN CLOTHES ON, YOU SICK PERVERT!”

“The only pervert around here is the one who smiled as I came out of my room naked, Edamame. Give me a couple of minutes to warm up before I go _real_ heavy on your-”

“STOOOOOOOP!” Edamura bemoans and ultimately covers his eyes, squatting on the floor in an attempt to salvage his fallen pride. The French man on the other side of the door laughs and waves at Makoto, who can’t even see it due to his blocked vision. He blows him a kiss, winking at the scarred man.

“I’ll be down in 20, _mon trésor_. I won’t keep you waiting any longer.” Invigorated by the wake-up call, Laurent closes his door and sighs happily as he walks to grab some underwear. What a great start to the day.

Edamura hurriedly runs to the elevator, trying hard to catch his breath and regain some semblance of sanity at being exposed to something so erotic this early in the morning. As he clicks the down button to the ground floor of the hotel, flashes of the incident pass through his mind and only one constant thought repeats over and over.

 _“_ ** _Oh my god, he was so big…_** " And just like that, a terrible start to the day.

* * *

The car ride is, once again, awkward to say the least. Laurent is making bedroom eyes at Edamura, ogling him without any shame. Edamura is avoiding Laurent’s gaze and wishes he were in a deep hole from how embarrassed he was from seeing the other man’s naked body before he even got the chance to kiss someone. Wait, scratch that, Laurent already took that too. The insufferable man. Their van driver, the concierge with many rings, is sitting uncomfortably at the front, blasting South African jazz as he tries to ignore the palpable tension of his two newest foreign clients.

They arrive at the already busy coffee shop, from what Edamura could hear, near the edge of the water with a large amount of outdoor eating space. Undoubtedly an extremely pricey piece of real estate that must mean something is going good for business if this tiny shop is dominating a part of the shoreline. Despite sharing company spaces with big-name chains that surely could destroy the shop with one paycheck, he could feel a tingle in his spine that this place was surely going to be worth the plane ride. As they walk out of the car, Edamura hands the concierge fifty dollars in South African money and asks him politely to meet them outside a small parking lot at around 4 PM. Eyes bulging, he takes the money out of the kind Japanese man’s hand and nods happily.

“Okay, sirs, have a wonderful day! And to you, sir, 감사합니다 [thank you]!” With that, the man grins to himself at his attempted politeness and peels off down the street. Edamura turns towards Laurent with an honestly confused stare, who has to try extremely hard not to burst out laughing despite his poker experience. Oh, Shi-Won was going to get a kick out of this one.

“What did that guy say to me? Was that “thank you” in Xhosa?”

“Probably, Edamame. Let’s go try some coffee now.” 

The owner of this coffee shop is very boisterous and just as old as the previous woman, speaking with a thick Afrikaans accent and busying herself around the shop along with her husband, two sons, and a granddaughter in her pre-teens running around lugging bags of flour and beans. Laurent sits at the counter to begin speaking with the two sons before he is pulled by the collar by Makoto towards the lively woman making their cups of coffee.

The woman smiles toothily at Edamura who looks between ready to kill the French man and hideaway in sheepish misery. “Ag, you didn’t have to pull him away from my sons over there, please! It’s fine, ah, Edamura, yeah?” She pours more water over the coffee cup, which is enticing Edamura more and more by the second by its aroma.

Deciding that his opinion finally matters, Laurent gives a light smile at the woman and winks at her. “Ma’am, don’t worry. My friend over here is just dying to try your coffee and wants me to taste it too.”

In response to his flirtatious compliment, she chuckles to herself and eyes her husband. “Nel, help me out here! I’m being seduced!” Her extremely buff husband gives a gruff response, flicks her the middle finger, and pulls a fresh loaf of bread from the oven. Edamura fondly reminisces over a certain Arab girl who would do the same thing before he is pulled back into reality by the lady in front of him.

“Try it! It’s very good, the shipment just came last week, and today’s prime time to grind these suckers. My muscles are still sore from carrying all the beans in myself!” She flexes her arms at Edamura and he watches as the muscles droop pitifully, both of them snickering at the sight. He takes a deep sip of the coffee and sighs happily.

The coffee itself is the fruitiest he’s ever had, but the dark flavor hits his palate so deep that he has to take a second to breathe and re-immerse himself. Edamura is reminded of the coffees he tried in Noto and Turin and immediately decides that this one is superior. The fruit is no longer a subtle hint like Noto's but a full blast right at his face. He can feel the rapid bursts of raspberries, navel orange, and chocolate flowing down his throat become staggering, standing on the precipice of enjoyable and sickly. The weight on the flavor scale shifts to become enjoyable as he is hit by a full body of flavor, sharply acidic and bitter notes of the coffee punching his saliva gland and forcing his mouth to pucker and water despite the hot liquid already in there. It’s like he visited Stellenbosch already with the winey depth of the drink. He savors the flavors in his coffee, groaning into the cup.

It seems Laurent is also enjoying his cup, eyes widening as he experiences the same flavors going down his throat. He looks at the cup with wide eyes, in awe at the amazing coffee in his mouth. Both men are now feeling the effects of the warm java enter their bodies and they begin to come out of their unnoticed slumber, ready to taste more. The woman sees both of them come to and guffaws at their silence. Already equipped for Edamura, who seemingly could not bear to savor the flavors and drank the cup swiftly, she gives him another cup to sip at. As polite as he may seem, he only gives a quick nod of thanks before greedily cupping his new drink in his hands and sipping once more, ready to experience the flavors all over again.

Except this one is much, much different than the last one. The coffee this time barely even tastes like coffee but more like a mixture between coffee and tea, surprising the Japanese man. He can taste hints of jasmine and crisp bouts of bergamot dance across his tongue as the light coffee goes down his throat, almost confusing his taste buds on whether or not she gave him a palate cleanser. Is this the benefit of wet-processed coffee beans? It’s like he took a shot of cucumber juice because the taste is so clean going down his throat that he nearly misses the small hints of luscious coffee shining through, like the sun peeking through a well-shaded tree. These bits of sunlight spread throughout his chest, warming his skin, and Makoto begins laughing while staring at the coffee in amazement.

“すごいなあ...めっちゃ 素晴らしいです [Wow… it’s really great!]! Where did you find such great quality beans?” He asks, his face perpetually stuck in a childlike grin. The old woman sneers at him playfully, raising an eyebrow at the young gentleman.

“I’m not caught up on my Japanese but I sure as hell know that means my coffee was good! The second one tasted like something an Asian would drink, yeah?” Edamura nods in agreement and she fists the air, whooping in delight. “Honey, I still got the touch!”

“Yeah, yeah, Estia. You got the touch still, _bokkie_.” The man is still looking into the furnace as he brings out two more trays of fresh baked goods, possibly cookies if going by the scent in the air, but turns and walks toward them where he places the tray down on the counter. As he walks away, he smacks Estia down below and, judging by her yelp of delight and her granddaughter's disgusted demeanor while passing by, Edamura slightly reddens at the blatant PDA. She giggles and looks towards the two men again while batting her kind wrinkled eyes.

“Nelius is the best, he even made our clementine cookies for you! On the house, too. Those coffees, though? Not, but if you came all the way here after meeting with Serena, you probably have the money to spare. I swear, she spoke about you like you were a criminal, screaming in her shop! Hell, last time I visited her I hollered so much she nearly beat me with her wooden spoon! Such a _bangbroek_.” Edamura side-eyes Laurent at the “criminal” comment, but all the blonde man does is continue sipping his cup and looking as if he’s enjoying the taste. He gestures his hand over the table instead.

“So, where did you ship the beans made for this from?”

“Oh, these? I got the first cup’s batch from Kenya, around Nyanza, and the other one I had to order from Yirgacheffe, where the _best_ of the best comes from, in Ethiopia.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, if Edamura hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings he would have missed it. A slight twitch in Laurent’s eye at the mention of the country. A place that was probably extremely taboo to him still. Makoto winces on the inside at bringing up such unsavory memories and directed the conversation elsewhere, not wanting to mess the day up even further.

They speak on and on about the coffee and how she got into coffee and why she was so successful with her business. She directed them around the shop in a mini-tour and it turns out she was a ruthless businesswoman, domineering over the coffee shop chains in the area. Her tactics were so harsh that she ran a ton of conglomerates out. Now, most of the cafes around the city were now family-owned and South African-owned, black and white alike, save for a couple of places way too popular for someone of her stature to take away from the community.

“And I swear, these Chinese people come into South Africa and make their bubble tea so popular! It’s ridiculous and it’s so sweet, I feel like an American drinking it sometimes. But everyone likes it for some reason. This one shop, I believe it’s called Brew-Tea-Ful, has made all the people in the area suddenly crave coffee with tapioca! Ag, disgusting!” Estia shouts over to Makoto, who is slurping his 5th cup of coffee and nodding intently. “I can’t believe it, I’m so _gatvol._ ”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means just done with it. I’m gonna focus on my business though and keep the nice coffee going till I roll in my grave, yeah? Oh, by the way, I heard you’re going to see Nambitha in Stellenbosch in a few days, could you bring me back a bottle of her black-currant Cabernet Sauvignon? I’ll cut you a discount for the coffee, I need to have some before I die of old age- wait, why are you waving your hands around?” Estia cocks her head confusedly at Edamura, who was trying hard to shut the old Afrikaans lady up before his coffee partner noticed. Laurent had finished his sample cups and went to discuss certain “topics” with her sons that he was not interested in, lest having someone else join him on his wine-

“Did someone say Sauvignon?”

Well, he tried. He really tried to stop the ball from rolling but Edamura could not halt the alcoholic from saying his piece about what wines to drink. It is only after he hears what Estia has told Makoto to do that Laurent turns towards him, slowly, a hurt look crossing his pretty-boy face before he leans in close to Edamura. Caging him in between his two arms. Invading his personal space so easily in a public area. He gasps as the French man breathes close to his ear, violating him as he did back in Noto. Only this time, instead of over the phone, the real thing was too much. Much more auditory with the volume unable to be lessened and much more tactile as breaths fanned over his skin.

“Oh, Edamame, did you really expect to go wine tasting without me? Really?” Laurent whispers softly near his earlobe, a firm hand grabbing his arm. "How dare you, you very _bad boy_."

A soft whine escapes from Makoto as his sensory functions overload and he is left unable to do anything but shiver and melt into a puddle at being breathed on and touched and whispered to. It’s not his fault. He can’t help being seduced by such a sensual voice, despite it belonging to actual trash. His back stiffens when he feels a soft kiss against his forehead as Laurent smiles back up at Estia, blue eyes twinkling.

“Do not worry, ma’am, we’ll get you your wine back on the trip. I promise.” And whenever Laurent promises something, he never backs down on that promise, or so Makoto had never seen before. He kisses him once more on the side of the head and ruffles his hair before sitting down next to him, staring at him softly. The spots where he was kissed burn hot against the Japanese man's skin, making him desperate to itch at them.

Meanwhile, Estia is staring back and forth between the two, a wondrous smile working up her face. “Now I had a hunch the two of you looked like you could speak Gayle, but what did this old bitch know? I still got the touch, Nel!” Nelius nods silently at Estia’s shout and brings a sign to the front of the shop saying that it’s open. A large queue has formed outside of the shop and Edamura, thankfully unseen from the public, does not have to worry about any of them having seen Laurent kiss him on the head.

Picking up their cups, Estia claps her hands and hands him a piece of paper with two numbers. “Alright, boys! Thanks for the business and I’ll see you in a few days! Here’s my number if you ever need to call me about anything related to coffee and Serena's if you want to give her a good ol’ scare. Knowing her, she probably didn't give it up. She’ll appreciate you calling her after what you did to her poor heart.” As she cackles loudly, Edamura makes a note not to ever cross this old woman.

They leave the shop, to the surprise of the queue out the door, and make their way downtown to do a bit of window shopping, or as Edamura liked to think about it, awkward talks on walks.

Laurent has his hands in his pockets and is swaying slightly, looking down at Edamura with a fond glance every now and again. He nudges Makoto on the shoulder.

“So, what did you think of the coffee? I thought it was good.”

The coffee critic whips his head around, looking at the man insulted. _Good? GOOD? It was incredible, the best I’ve ever had and you say it was just ‘good’, stupid blonde man._ Edamura thought as he glares at the sidewalk.

“Wow, no need to go for insults, Edamame.” Oops, did he think aloud? Well, Makoto did not care one bit what the French man thought. All he cared about was being able to drink that coffee one more time after visiting the supposedly great wine farm. With Laurent.

Edamura turns back to Laurent once more, eyebrows raised and sulking as he asks, “Why did you invite yourself again? That trip was just for me.”

Laurent has the audacity to roll his eyes at the question and raises Makoto’s blood pressure by 3 notches. He raises his hand flippantly and states, “Edamame, I said we’d hang out this entire trip! If you’d told me before you didn’t want to hang out at a certain point, you could have just told me. Granted, I would have been sad, especially since this IS a winery we are talking about, but I would have understood. But you kept it a secret from me. And-”

“And we both know how good you are at keeping secrets, right?” Edamura snaps back before shoving his hands in his pockets, all riled up again. A hand pressed against his back and he looks back up at the French man, whose face has once again become somber. 

“And we know how bad you are at keeping secrets. I’m sorry, Edamura. You don’t have to forgive me just yet, but please know I really am sorry.”

Edamura scoffs at the pitiful apology and flicks his head away from the bastard. “Yeah, yeah, tell me that again when you are sorry for kissing me on the head in front of Estia. You sexual predator.”

“Oh, I’d never be sorry at the chance to kiss you, my little soybean.” Another kick to the legs and the French man was tumbling to his knees.

They meet up with Nambitha a few days later, another woman with rich black skin and greying hair that looks not a day over 50. She smirks when Edamura compliments her on this, replying simply that her other two lady friends did not fare well in their genetics when it came to looking ‘so good’. She begins taking them around the different fields, letting them try the grapes on the vines and popping open expensive wines for them to walk around with and sample, or in her case, fill a glass to the brim and gulp. This woman is apparently Xhosa, which allows Edamura to ask her on the tour what the driver had said to him a few days ago. Also apparent, this is not the right time for him to ask while under the generous influence of such fine wine, which hinders his emotional state and causes him to break down in tears in the middle of the grapevine.

“L-Laurent! Laurent!!! I swear I’m not Korean, please! Please ask Shi-Won, I swear I’m not!” The French man nearly spills his third glass of wine laughing at Edamura’s incessant sobbing, fat tears rolling down his eyes as the Chinese men back in Nice come back to haunt him. Nambitha is also tearing up with her own chuckles, not trying hard to see how this jumbled man could have scared poor Serena.

“Oh, but Edamame, Shi-Won told me she learned her kimchi recipe from you! It’s really good too!” 

This just makes Edamura cry harder, taking one last gulp of his third glass of wine at the backhanded compliment that makes no sense but hit his feelings just the same. The blonde man decides to just pat the vulnerable soybean's back and whisper sweet nothings in his ear in an effort to soothe as they continue their taste testing.

It happens as they are walking along the dirt path, lagging behind the "much fitter than she seems" Nambitha. Just as they reach the apex of the tour, Laurent continues murmuring his honeyed words in his travel partner's ear when Edamura glares up at him, cheeks puffed out and eyes red from bawling. “Did you just call me brew-tiful?”

Blinking once, Laurent stares back a little perplexed and very happy at the cute person in front of him. He winks at the shorter man. "No, I called you beautiful,” he starts, “but I assure you I am not trying to make a pun out of you, silly soybean.”

Despite his subpar attempts to calm down the now offended drunk man, Edamura begins beating weakly on the French man’s chest thinking he is truly hurting him. Laurent knows better, however, as he likens the feeling more to a cat kneading biscuits on a couch. In Laurent's head, it's extremely hard to imagine this crying mess as the same person who pulled a real sword on him on a deserted island and threatened to slice him up for being such an untruthful asshole. Laurent grins goofily as the Japanese man simultaneously cries drunken tears and angrily mocks him. “No, you m-meant it as a coffee pun! Bastard Laurent! You’re silly! I can make fun of you too! _Excusez-moi! Hon hon, o-oui! Merci beaucoup! S-Sacrebleu!_ ”

The combination of the soft site in front of him, what with the cute French-Japanese mashed accent Edamura was making and the feeble beating on his chest, and the fact that there is a heavier amount of liquor in his stomach due to Nambitha’s generosity is too much for Laurent's will to bear. He pulls Edamura close by the hips and ushers them toward a sheltered grapevine.

Laurent soaks in the sight of a whiny Edamura, fists still thumping and face red from alcohol consumption. His green polo shirt blends in with the lush leaves at his back, almost as if he truly was becoming an edamame bean. He’s still saying his words in a French accent, ridiculing his mother tongue more. He runs a hand through the Japanese man’s messy brown hair, pulling it a bit from the back to see his reaction. Edamura tightens his lips and shrilly whines, upping his kneading to pounding biscuits onto the taller man. Sighing in crushing defeat at the endearing scene, the French man trails his hand down the other's spine before swiftly covering the other’s mouth with his own.

 _He tastes like really good wine_ , is the first thought that pops in Laurent's head. He readjusts their mouths as the experienced man tries to achieve the perfect angle to slot himself against the drunken man. He nuzzles his nose into Edamura's soft cheek, smirking at the other man's squirming. Over and over, he detaches and attaches himself from Makoto's addictive lips in tender motions, relishing in the other’s company despite the younger one still attempting to complete the task of hurting his mortal foe.

Why did it feel like his knees were getting weaker? Edamura was sure he wasn’t a snake… or was he? Either way, his grip on balance was failing him the more alcohol entered his system as he nearly slithered to the dirt, barely avoiding it if it wasn’t for the tight grip on his waist and the fervent touches to his mouth. His eyes blearily open and he catches sight of his worst nightmare, two Laurents smiling down at him. Their sky-blue eyes gently gazing into his before reconnecting their lips in another open-mouthed kiss that tasted strongly of tangy berries. A exhale of relief leaves him at that action and he relaxes some more, his stomach buzzing with warmth. However, his arms keep swinging.

Laurent pauses a moment while their lips are connected, tongue waiting at slightly parted lips. He can still feel the soft beating on his chest almost like a second heart, persistent and unyielding in its effort to beat him up. He pulls once more on the brown tufts between his long fingers, massaging the man's scalp, and greedily swallows any pained whimpers that emit from Edamura. Something hot burns in his gut as it curls and growls in possession. Whatever it was, his body thought the sounds in front of him were his and his only. The blonde man’s manners crumble as his patient tongue swipes at the parted lips and occupies the space within.

Edamura, with his arms still striking Laurent, gets a good hit on the French man’s shoulder with the blonde bastard wincing in pain. Giggling with a sense of triumph, he relents his persistent attacks and the feral beast inside him settles once more. Now he can fully enjoy this moment. He hadn’t really minded the pleasant kisses pushing against his lips, especially this current one with a skillful tongue roaming about and currently pressing against the roof of his mouth. Smiling dazedly, he tries to kiss back but his mind and tongue just won’t cooperate under the addling influence of the wine. It's getting a bit hard to breathe too, maybe because his mouth is being covered completely by Laurent's. He breathes hard through his nose and whines for air, which Laurent immediately gifts to him.

A thin line of drool connects the two as they part ways. Edamura takes a gasp of the sweet earthy air and, by reaction, tries to follow up the kiss with his own, whining when he realizes that the other man is too far up. Waves of lustful passion crash over Laurent as he catches Makoto trying to follow his lips up. Grabbing his hips harder, he pulls the coffee critic back into a bruising kiss that has them both moaning loudly. 

Frankly, it is only when Nambitha turns around and notices that they are indeed missing that she heeds the warning Estia had given her about these two "lovebirds", as her friend so candidly remarked. Retracing her steps, it is only at the sound of these very loud “noises” that she investigates an overgrown vine and sees them. A tipsy French man enthusiastically making out with the funny drunk Asian man and giving each other kisses just shy of being described as “searing” right on top of her grapes. Chuckling to herself, she rolls her shoulder back and smacks the unsuspecting white man right on the back of his head.

“Okay, little ones, I don’t need your shared spit ruining my harvest! Keep your hands to yourself or else no more wine.” Rubbing the back of his now throbbing head, Laurent gives her a charming smile, which does not look very effective seeing as how she looks over at the other dazed man who has rightly swollen lips and lightly mussed clothes, his tucked polo shirt popping out of his jeans. When they get back to the main house at the end of the tour, she gifts the two of them a large case of wine each and some bottles for Estia, to the drunken joy of Makoto and the pleasure of Laurent. It really was good wine.

Now it is time for them to go. They had both packed up from their stay at the hotel and get driven towards the airport with their concierge-driver from before. Edamura had still not gotten over being told ‘thank you’ in Korean but swallowed some pride and allowed the man to keep driving them. Sithembele, the name of the driver after they got back from the coffee shop that day, had taken up a buddy-buddy relationship with Edamura and proceeded to call him _boetie_ all the way from then until they took the final drive up to the airport and unpacked their luggage.

“So, _boetie_ , it was really a good time being your personal driver at Ubukumkani. I know you saved my number, so use it if you ever decide to come back to South Africa and need someone to take you to the local sights!”

Edamura smiles and reaches a hand up to shake his hand. “Of course, Sithembele! If you ever decide to come to Japan, I’ll bring you to all the local sights too!” The South African man looks at the hand for a moment, smiles impossibly wide at him, and goes in for a hug. Already on alert, Edamura feels around the tightening around his torso to see if it was with the intention to steal his wallet and found that no, it was a genuine hug. Feeling bad at his untrustworthy thoughts, he hugs Sithembele in return and pats him on the back. 

The two foreigners enter the airport and look at the gates they would be taking. Separate flights. Edamura looked at Laurent with a narrowed gaze.

“Okay, I’m off to drink some coffee up north in Ethiopia. I’m guessing you’re going back to the States?” There was no way that Edamura could miss the flinch on Laurent at the country name, a simple reminder of the terrible past that was now just that: something that had passed. 

“Yes, Edamame, I’ll be riding back to the United States as a diplomat. Have to put these nine languages to use in some other way than conniving others, right?” Laurent says easily, smirking seductively at the innocent young coffee adventurer.

Edamura rolls his eyes and smirks back. “All I’m happy about is you actually getting your life together and not fucking mine up like before. Go ahead and do your diplomacy while I go and get a great cup of joe.” Laurent nods and, just like before in the vines, grabs him by the hips and surges forward, connecting their lips in another deep kiss.

The kiss lasts only a few seconds before Edamura sputters backward, cheeks flushed red and eyes trying hard not to glaze over. He wipes his mouth hard sputtering and crosses his arms. Despite being drunk as hell in the winery, he sure as hell did not forget the kisses that Laurent had given him. Once they had gotten back to the hotel, he made sure to beat the blonde man’s ass thoroughly, this time not pawing his chest but actual punches and kicks that left the man wheezing with bruises and pain and laughter.

"Give me some warning next time so I can punch you again!"

“Maybe I will, maybe I won't. Invite me back just to be sure, Edamame.”

“Maybe I won't then, jackass. See you never.”

But then again, Edamura is terrible at lying. Over the next two and a half years, he’s able to make tremendous progress on his coffee adventure traveling all over the world. First Ethiopia, then Colombia, then off to Havana, back to Europe, then back to South America, then Asia, and so forth. Along the way, he’s able to find time to hang out with everyone in the crew.

First, he invites his favorite person from the team, Abigail, only a week after Africa on a trip down to South America where they try fresh Colombian grinds. It blows his mind how despite the coffee not being as strong as previous ones, the caramel and nutty flavors produced from the beans shines through the blend. While Makoto nerds out, Abby sits back, bored but intent on studying his entertaining facial expressions like a kid at a zoo. The only time she shows emotions is when they (and they swear by it) unintentionally con one of the biggest drug cartel leaders in the country out of a small 50 million after he kicked the back in of one of the bean picking kids. The look on his face as Abby drove one of his prized cars off the side of a cliff with the face of a crazed devil will forever be ingrained in Makoto’s head.

Then, he goes to London after a couple of months and meets with Cynthia, who takes him to the coffee spot he’s been dying to try ever since some owner in Peru told him that they perfected French press. Cynthia, skeptical since she did work in a cafe before but never tried the spot, accompanies Edamura to the place where they find the French press is just as the lady had described, the bold flavors making the Japanese man shudder in delight. He also gets to see Kawkn again, a pang of harsh guilt rushing through him at the thought of his past actions, and asks how he’s doing with his art.

Then it comes to Shi-Won and Kudo when he visits Korea a year later, which further breaks his spirit when the locals cannot even discern what nationality he is (Chinese? Korean? Once he hears Nepalese, he reaches for his trusty bottle of Sauvignon). Kudo hitches along again for Melbourne, Australia the week after where they drink coffee in the winter and Edamura finally gets a chance to speak in his native tongue again, which feels so much easier even though his English has gotten rather good. His father has yet to be invited due to his job and making better amends with society as well as his son.

And Laurent Thierry takes up most of the trips in between.

This insufferable bitch, this asshole, decides to keep up his job as a diplomat and travels extensively around the world the same as him, just not attached to the hip. But when he does save up a few days of vacation, it’s immediately to ask where Edamura is in the world. It doesn’t matter if he’s in the middle of sleep in Austria or just snacking on something in Canada, he’ll always call him and beg him to tell him where he is for hours on end so he can come and drink a cup with him.

And each time Edamura begrudgingly accepts his requests and meets up with him, without fail, the blonde man will find time to bring them away to his hotel room, cup his body close, and close the distance between their lips and take his breath away. The first few times, there was definitely a struggle and a bit of kicking and screaming. One instance had ended with Edamura losing a shoe out of his hotel window and shrieking as it fell into the water, startling the fisherman below. Punches were thrown and he even spent some time in England learning how to do a half-nelson if the man tried to approach him one more goddamn time. After some months though, the kicking stopped. The shouts of indignation become devoured sobs on the bedsheets. His punches turn into clenched fists as he fists the sheets underneath him or Laurent's prized Ermenegildo Zelga suits. The man above Edamura never disappoints when it comes to kissing.

Despite all this, the Japanese coffee expert will not fall in love with the man yet. Laurent had not yet crossed the threshold of kissing, which meant something was holding him back. Even though he had seen the man nude many times after South Africa (most by accident, some purely because the French man wanted to show off), despite getting teased and deep-kissed within an inch of his life, regardless of the fact that he had felt the man’s massive dick straining against his ass multiple times and rutting against him like a dog in heat, he never went past the point of clothed frottage. It helps cement the fact to Makoto that he was not going to be much more than the visage of an innocent boy to molest each time they saw each other and he was totally fine with that casualness.

Well, everything except the huge dick against his ass sometimes, but overall it wasn’t a big deal.

Until it was. 

He didn’t know it, but it started right when he got another coffee recommendation after visiting Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. He was sipping the last of his Vietnamese coffee, the strong robust coffee fighting back against the heavy cream in the best flavor battle he'd had in a while. He shook his cup a few times, looking up at the man and his wife who served him. They were a rather happy and content couple, their earnings small but their love immense. Through their broken English and Edamura's butchered Vietnamese, they were extremely shocked but grateful to hear someone’s renowned coffee shop all the way in Norway recommended their small food store, which only sold coffee on the side. Edamura could see what the appeal was once the iced beverage is paired with a hot, delicious banh mi sandwich. Actual heaven.

“Where was the last good cup of coffee that you had?” The husband and wife both mull over their thoughts before the wife pops her head up, an answer brightly crossing her face.

“Oh my god, if not in Vietnam, you have to try this wonderful place in Taipei! I can give you the address!”

Edamura grins satisfied as he writes down the address and gets their phone number. Guess he was finally going to get to visit Taiwan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the coffees are house blends that pull inspiration from both the area of origin and its surrounding characteristics.
> 
>  **Okinawa** : This island seperated from mainland Japan is known for its roasted brown sugar teas, with this owner doing a coffee spin on this with a roasted toffee coffee. He is the only owner to provide sugar cubes because of milk tea influences around his part of the island.  
>  **Noto** : Italy is known for its darker roasts that go above the second cracking when being roasted, allowing for higher burnt flavors and lower caffeine content. The city of origin for this owner comes from is located near Verona, Italy, known for its ideal berry growing climates, up in Northern Italy. This is why his shop has a more tart approach to the coffee.  
>  **Turin** : This shop primarily deals with _caffe macchiatos_ and harsher blends of coffee offset by the insane chocolate culture. When I was looking for places to write about, I chose this place completely random and absolutely freaked out when I saw it hosted the Nutella factory and is the birthplace of Lavazza. Definitely added this to my bookmarked travel places.  
>  **Cape Town and Stellenbosch** : I wanted to do coffee in an African country because it's the most lucrative spot in the world for coffee production. What I didn't want was to put it in one of the most obvious spots for coffee in Africa (Kenya/Ethiopia) so Cape Town was a nice compromise. Estia buys these bags of coffee once a month, all green, and roasts them by hand in the cookie oven. The citrus flavors are a specialty to South Africa and also their shop, with their combination of clementine cookies and coffee making them MAD dough. Stellenbosch is considered one of the top wine areas in the entire continent of Africa, so I had to promote it because wine+Edamura = fluff. The wines they drank included the one Estia mentioned, a black-currant Cabernet Savignon circa. 2017, and other ones not included.
> 
> In South Africa, I included Afrikaans slang terms for them to use. Bangbroek means coward, bookie means deer or sweetheart, boetie means brother, and ag is a term used as a word of exasperation or to emphasize. Gayle is the famous gay argot, or code talk, many homosexual men used in South Africa during the 1950's to determine if another man was gay or not. I also loved the Chinese men thinking he's a Korean bit in Case 3 so that joke's gonna stick for a bit LOL
> 
> I am currently finishing up the second chapter as we speak and outlining the third, among my other fics. My love for Edaurent at the moment is ENORMOUS so this fic is gonna be quite beefy.
> 
> If you liked this, please leave a kudos and a comment!


	2. CASE 5_2: Deja Brew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been excited to release this chapter!
> 
> The reaction to me posting the first chapter about two weeks ago was overwhelmingly positive so I'm going to keep up the hard work! The energy I have to write this is incredible, I feel like I did about 4 years ago starting off LOL.
> 
> TW: Minor OC death, some blood and fighting (offscreen)
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter! I beta read these all but let me know if there are any mistakes!

**2 & ½ YEARS AGO**

Somewhere around 2230 kilometers away from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, an amnestic woman stands on the side of a beach near Taiwan while staring quietly at the sea. Taking a deep breath of the ocean breeze, she smiles widely at the sense of freedom felt in the deepest part of her bones, blossoming outward onto her skin.

She still doesn’t understand why she enjoys the feeling so much. 

Her mother and father are working on the caught fish once more, gutting their bodies and descaling their skin for cooking. They always bring her to this very spot every time they needed to get fish. The spot where, nearly eight years ago, they found her unconscious and bleeding from an open bullet wound. When she awoke disoriented after the man she now calls her father performed CPR, her thoughts were a mess. She couldn’t remember her name, her personality, her life before washing ashore. Only when they asked her about her past did random memories flit past her mind with no rhyme or reason.

She had gasped, realizing that she was a secretary for the CEO of a theme park in Cajamar, São Paulo, Brazil. Then that memory was overridden with a glimpse of someone pouring her a glass of wine as they discussed selling valued oysters in Sydney, Australia. But that conflicted with the memory of her being an Ethiopian princess doing a study abroad in Kyoto, Japan. And on and on she recounted how she was the girlfriend of a German millionaire, the owner of an Italian soccer org, many countless tales that had no connection and led to multiple dead-ends. A splitting migraine finally ceased her recounting, causing her to slip from fluent Mandarin to a disoriented English. This only furthered her mysterious origins to the old couple. When the pounding in her head dulled to a faint throb, she turned to them apprehensively and asked what she should do.

The old man and woman themselves had just suffered a loss of their own: their only child. A tomboy and lover of the waves, their daughter wanted to be just like the fisherman that she received piggyback rides from and who wiggled the worms in her face that she giggled at with glee. The couple did not accept her interests, however, until she came back home as a teen with her school uniform in her satchel and a basket full of fish in her hands that she caught herself as food for the week. They allowed her to provide after that, helping the mother and father with their small restaurant and finally being free to do whatever she wanted out in the water. Two months before visiting the beach, the mother and father came home expecting to see their daughter's wonderful smiling face staring back at them with another tale of the ocean. Instead, they were greeted at the door by an openly sobbing sailorman that reported the waves she loved so much swallowed up Yi-Hsuan, and her limp body laid at the docks as they spoke.

They hadn’t spoken of her since. But gazing upon this woman right here, about the same age and height of their daughter, filled them with a sense of longing so harsh it almost made them resent her. The ocean took their own daughter away from them so it could spit another girl back up? She looked nothing like Yi-Hsuan either. Her cool umber skin was flawless like the Africans they'd seen in movies, unlike the tanned luster of their precious daughter’s scarred arms. Her white locks framed her face unnaturally unlike the brown strands of hair that their daughter tied tightly in a bun each time she needed to work. Her blue eyes did not fit her complexion unlike the timeless brown eyes of their daughter. Her slim body was unlike the built physique of their deceased daughter, strong from the hours spent on the sea. She was nothing like what their Yi-Hsuan used to be, different in every way.

And if that initial hatred did not contrast so starkly with the desperate compassion that pulled them in the direction to help this poor woman out, then let their hypocrisy shine ugly against their foreheads like a scorchingly hot iron brand.

They felt relieved for this poor girl, tossed away by the sea and set adrift to die, only to cheat the Grim Reaper. She had done what they wished had happened to their own child. They had already lost all hope of saving their Yi-Hsuan when they had seen their daughter’s unmoving corpse on the deck. Their tears had been sucked dry from the hopelessness in ever recovering the hole that their daughter had left with her death. However, they could help this mysterious woman, who was looking at their tears with befuddled eyes. Feeling a pulse on the unconscious woman here filled the old man with energy, with a strength that the wife had not seen for a long time. She could fulfill the hole in their hearts for a little bit longer and allow them to receive the closure of their daughter’s passing with time. And so they took her in, with her whimsical tales and imaginative stories of an old life. She asked them what she should be called to them.

Thus her new name was Xiangxiang.

The woman, now called Xiangxiang, holds her hand up to the sky while admiring her new jewelry. "Not bad…"

“Xiangxiang! Time to go back home!” 

The woman in question looks back from her spot and smiles, recognizing the yell of her adoptive mother. She grins widely at her mother, waving back and forth. “Of course, I’ll be right there!”

On her ring finger is one of the many gifts given to her by her new family. Granted, it was found in the body of a dead fish and she had to laugh at the frugality her father had when it came to presents. However, she could not place it but there was a certain… nostalgia to the ring? It confused her the more she glanced at it, definitely much more expensive than anything her family could ever afford. But to be fair it was just another gift the ocean handed out to her. Maybe it was like her and had a story to it, lost in the East China Ocean. Just like her. Her reflection glitters back at her as she stares into the blue depths of the gem and exhales once more, letting her intrusive thoughts take the backburner for a bit. 

“I need you to help wheel the fish back, Xiangxiang. Please help your papa!”

“Coming, mama!”

* * *

**PRESENT DAY**

It always feels nice traveling around Asia for Edamura. He was sure it had to do with how easy it was for him to get lost in the crowd since everyone had similar facial features as him, a relic of elusion from his confidence-man days. Walking around the Western world over the years always made him feel like he was in a bright spotlight with his looks, like someone at random was going to yell some slur at him at any given moment. His thoughts travel back to backpacking around the landlocked areas of Europe and North America and the many, many stares he'd get for being the only Asian in a coffee shop, let alone for the next 50 miles. How he wished to be able to slip quietly into a street corner and not be singled out after possibly snatching the hefty wallet from an asshole patron. He dismisses the silly notion from before, looking back down at his phone for directions to the cafe.

After landing at Taoyuan International Airport sometime in the evening last night, Edamura was already ready to hit the hay. Not only had his flight been delayed an hour and a half due to battery issues, but he had been seated in coach next to a fat man diagnosed with a bad case of sleep apnea and could barely concentrate on his book. He has enough money, even after two years of constant travel and monetary donations to charities, to buy out the entire first-class at least seventy times over, but he had lived frugally before and knew when and where to spend his earnings. Living the luxury life was only in place when he knew the French slut was on the trip with him.

The young coffee critic grumbled at thin air as he rolled his luggage with him to security, pulling out his phone and hailing a taxi from an app the Vietnamese couple told him to download. Once the protocol of going through the airport was done, he found his driver and told him to drive directly to the hotel. He stared out the window, sighing in the solace that a bed would be underneath his head in just a few hours.

All irritation seeped from his body and into the air as he slumped backward into said bed, the rest of the car ride a blur from how drained he was and hotel check-in a monotonous process as usual. The plane rides from country to country always did that to him and he always made sure to text everyone (besides Laurent) that he would not be answering any of their messages the day before a flight. Sitting comfortably in his green striped boxers and a wifebeater, he turned off airplane mode and watched as the notifications rolled in. 

His latest Instagram post was getting decent likes, him being the only confidence man on his team to download social media after being done with the crime life. He held two accounts, one being a personal account that he kept private photos in and another exclusively to document his coffee travel around the world. People were astounded at how an account of over two years old could sustain the amount of traveling he did and not keep a job, even with the prospect of online sponsorships, and this earned himself the nickname of "The Coffeefarian", a play on words of a trustafarian. It even became the name of his profile which boasted an exorbitant 97,000 followers, all of who were interested in what coffee he decided to drink around the world. He never expected to become this famous especially since his reviews just consisted of him praising most coffees he's tried and basic shots of each coffee he tried. It was something fun to do in his post conning life. Other than that, a couple of messages from his close friends, a couple of emails from coffee shops around the world asking him to try their brews out, and a bunch of messages from Laurent which made Edamura snicker once he remembered what he sent him earlier.

[From: Edamame]

 _Hahahahaha, it’s you._ _[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=072Nu54avdU&ab_channel=jeppoo1](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=072Nu54avdU&ab_channel=jeppoo1) _

_On point with the French beret and baguette too._

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_… Edamame, you know that I’m not French, I’m Belgian. We’ve been over this._

[From: Edamame]

_I’m sorry, I don’t understand what “mur mure murmure au mur” means xD_

Ever since Edamura had found out Laurent was actually Belgian and not French when he last visited the bastard’s hometown a few months back, he had been nonstop sending him some hilarious English-to-French memes he’d found while scrolling through Instagram. Finally having something to tease the blonde French (definitely not Belgian) man was so much fun, it had Edamura in peels of laughter each time he opened his messages and saw a sad selfie of said bastard. There was no way he was going to give this up, especially since he knows for a fact that his contact is still ‘Edamame’. He grinned as he opened up the newest messages from him.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard}

_You’re so mean Edamame! I’m going to punish you the next time I see you._

_I know you’re there, looking at the message on your phone screen but not opening it so I can’t see that you read it. Cruel soybean you are._

_Edamame, you ignoring me is just turning me on further and you know what happens when I get excited. Hope you’ll be able to handle me next time we meet ;)_

_I’m sure you’re just on another plane ride to another country right now because Cynthia told me so ;) I’ll go to sleep happy now. Sweet dreams, mon tr_ _ésor._

_… Alright, I took a nap and I'm gonna strangle you if you don’t text back. Don’t make me video call you._

[TWO MISSED VIDEO CALLS FROM: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_Prepare to be punished next time I see you, Edamame._

A genuine laugh escapes Makoto once he sees the ironic notifications pop up on his screen. Laurent was definitely a needy asshole when he wanted to be. It was almost like they were boyfriends, but Edamura knew better than to get into a relationship with someone as spontaneous, manipulative, and just plain shitty as him. The amount of fuckery that had been wedged in between the time they knew each other was enough to push him away from the blonde man for eons, even if they were on significantly better terms than a few years ago. Blushing at the thought of their current relationship standing, Edamura started texting him back.

[From: Edamame]

_Whatever you say, bitch._

_Oh, I’d like to see you try and punish me, waffle boy._

_Also, stop spamming me and my video calls or else I’m going to actually block your number._

_I’m still in Asia and I just got done with my flight. In the hotel room right now about to go to sleep. Good night, you headache._

Now on his current walk near the edge of the city, he switches apps from the GPS and takes a quick video of the dusky orange morning sky, relishing in the ideal conditions for a nice cup of coffee. His followers had never heard a sound out of him during these videos or anything except for occasional sips and moan of delight in drinking coffee. He was always cautious not to say a word lest someone match his voice to previous crimes, but this social media account was just a piece of his plan to bring happiness to others through coffee. No need to bring the past into the mix.

His phone pings as he arrives in front of the shop. It looks like a simplistic black box of a store fitted with an ornate door and full-length windows showcasing the interior. Edamura crowds over to a window and peeks in, seeing coffee grinders lining the wall and pre-roasted beans and pastries in a glass display case. A single worker, probably in her early thirties like him, towers over the bar like an alchemist with their elixirs as pour-over stations and glass beakers above hot flames catch his eye next. He whistles in appreciation, admiring the aesthetic of the place already. Soft chairs and tables line the walls in spots away from the constant reopening of a door, smart in its placement so their coffee won't get cold if people decide to drink inside. 

The establishment is situated in a more isolated part of the city, almost residential, meaning that the people here were more family-oriented and the neighborhood to be safer than usual. This place had quite a bit of fancy equipment in it, but he could see multiple security cams all over the walls, deterring people from even thinking of robbing here. Edamura has very good expectations for this place. The coffee shop worker at the bar notices him and gives him a neutral customer-service smile, tapping her wrist to signify the shop will open in just a short while. He nods and turns away from the window, not minding since the cold air wasn't so chilly as it was when he first walked out.

He rubs his hands together and feels a notification go off in his pocket. His hand begins to reach for his phone...

"If this asshole doesn't leave, I'm slicing up his shitty body and feeding his remains to the ducks at the lake!"

A strong female voice resonates down the block, shouting rapidly in Mandarin, and Edamura's head snaps at the accusation. Was someone being murdered? Abused? There was definitely an issue about three stores down, pots clattering in the background, and louder sounds of struggle ringing out. He could distinctly make out the sound of three, maybe four people having a shouting match in Taiwanese Mandarin. Edamura pushes his back off the wall and tries to get a better vantage point to see what's happening, but all the commotion is still unseen. He starts walking towards the noise when a body is flung out of a door, rag-dolling in the sidewalk.

A hand covers Edamura's face, the color draining as horror fills his expression at the blood on the ground. The blood seems to be coming from the woman sitting on the floor, her side-profile snarled at the door as she drips crimson from her hands onto the previously clean sidewalk. The first thing Edamura notices about her is the fact that she is also a foreigner, but in a vastly different way than he is. First of all, she does not look remotely Taiwanese but instead black, her hair sporting a shocking white and a pink dye on the inside of her bob cut. Her eyes seem to be filled with hatred as she spits out more insults in fluent Mandarin, pointing at someone inside the store. Edamura can see that she's beautiful but chaotic, a ripple in the morning that seems to disrupt the peacefulness of the Japanese man's pond. He stands there, stunned, as she begins ripping into an unknown assailant.

"Hey, asshat, don't go waving your money around like you're top shit! We're not getting off this fucking block, my family worked hard for this restaurant! You can't buy out everyone in this neighborhood, pig cheeks! Fat ass! You cowardly piece of-"

"XIANGXIANG!" The woman flinches as another voice calls out, anger lacing the male's voice. It sounds old, probably would be frailer if it weren't for the tone of rage that came with it. "Don’t insult this man right now! Go calm down!"

The black woman, apparently named Xiangxiang, looks like she is about to respond back to the voice inside but instead clenches her teeth and backs down. She takes a slow deep breath in and gets up gracefully before turning away. She stomps in Edamura's direction a couple of feet when a sound that resembles a slap comes from the restaurant and a gasp of pain. She looks back, stupefied, before running right to the entrance and gasping in rage.

" _You fat waste of space, what the fuck did you-!_ "

"GET OUT, XIANGXIANG! I'll deal with _him_." The voice inside now sounds even more enraged, but not directed solely at Xiangxiang. She stomps her foot on the ground and walks away in Edamura’s direction, tears streaming down her face and a muffled scream ripping from her vocal cords. Her eyes, now that he can see them clearly, are an inky blue, highlighted by aggressive red veins surrounding her scleras. After a few steps, she finally notices the foreigner standing in her way and blinks once, twice at him. After the third blink, her face tints with a small scarlet blotch and she makes a 180 degree turn to walk in the opposite direction. 

“W-Wait!” The voice that had been silently encased in Edamura’s throat finally decides to debut, hand reaching out to Xiangxiang before he could process the action. He stumbles forward and catches her attention, her puffy eyes staring at him with suspicion and leftover anguish. “U-Um, would you like to share a cup of coffee?”

A second passes by as the yelling inside the store grew fainter, probably the people in the store continuing to argue in an area where most people would not hear. Edamura did not know what the woman was thinking and what emotions she was probably going through, though he could imagine one of them being irritated, gleaning from her constant facial change each time she turned from looking at him curiously and back towards the store. Edamura, finally feeling the awkwardness of the situation, started trying to persuade Xiangxiang.

“Uh, well, I can pay for you too if that’s why you’re hesitating, I’m sure a lot has just happened to-”

“Who are you?” She asks him suddenly, the question coming out of left field since she responds while her face is turned away. But, another surprise is the fact that she could say that in perfect English. Edamura could gather from her accent that she was not a native of Taiwan, but he didn’t know where she would be from with that information.

“Eh? Oh, let me introduce myself, I’m Edamura Makoto.”

“Edamura, hmm?” She finally turns towards him and tuts in his direction, giving him a once over, scanning him in an eerily familiar way. Almost as if they had met somewhere else before. A moment later, an enthusiastic grin pops up on her face. “Sure, let’s go! Thanks for the offer, kind sir.” 

A bit perplexed by her insanely quick mood switch but eager to get inside of the shop to escape the muffled but still clear yelling in the other store, Makoto nods and ushers the both of them into the shop. Wiping underneath her eyes to clear her tear tracks, Xiangxiang bounds into the cafe like an excited puppy, the Japanese man quickly following suit.

They approach the counter and Xiangxiang leans up against it, winking at the girl standing behind it. “Niji, 亲! Please give me a good cup of cocoa!”

The coffee shop worker, Niji apparently, decideds to ignore this request and instead start whisper-shrieking at Xiangxiang, trying hard to keep her voice down so Edamura cannot hear her Taiwanese Mandarin. Unfortunately for her, she’s still hearable as Makoto is A) right next to Xiangxiang and B) able to understand the language slightly better than two years ago, having started taking lessons again. He keeps his face passive as they have their conversation.

“Wait, wait! No ordering just yet! Let me know what the hell just happened? I could hear the screaming from all the way inside here. You’re bleeding! Was it that man who walked by, like, 10 minutes ago? He looked so scary…”

“Heh, that fat fucker? He’s just some lackey for the guy who keeps trying to bring down our shops! Old lady Fei would never let someone like him take down her old tea shop, especially after you spent your savings revamping this place!”

Edamura watches as Niji pulls out some gauze from under the counter and wraps Xiangxiang’s hand, continuing to fret. “What did he do to you guys?” 

At that, Xiangxiang glowers at the counter and keeps her head down, her white hair hiding her face from view. “He’s threatening us again. I tried to punch the cunt but Papa pushed me out of the shop. I was about to walk away when he slapped Mama.”

Niji’s eyes go wide at the same time Edamura did, shocked at the revelation. A random man inside her family’s shop slapped her mom? Aside from that little tidbit, her mentioning that the shop owner’s were her parents cemented the fact that she was, in fact, a native to the country. But where did she get that American accent from? The coffee critic could only deduce that her uncommon accent may have come from going to an international school since she was little, so that eased his curiosity a little. However, what had happened before was still shocking. If someone had slapped his mom, he would have had no qualms about smacking them right back if not just smashing their head in.

“No way! Oh my god, is she okay?”

“I don’t know yet. However, this man right here,” Xiangxiang pauses in her gossip to point a free finger at Makoto, “saw me get my ass kicked to the curb and generously decided to help the gorgeous, delicate, amazingly clever Xiangxiang with paying for one of your delicious cups of cocoa!” 

Niji shakes her head fervently, almost imitating one of those bobblehead figures Edamura saw at his first baseball game in America. She finishes wrapping the injury and slams her hands down on the counter. “No, no, no! You’re getting a cup for free! I can’t believe the audacity of a man who would hit a woman like your mama. If anyone ever hit Ma, I’d go into a fit too.” 

A large sigh leaves Xiangxiang as she pushes herself up on the counter, rolling her eyes at her friend. “C’mon, girl! You can’t keep giving free drinks to me and all the boys you think are cute! (Hey!) Don’t give me that bullshit, I was in here a couple of days ago and I saw you give that tall athletic dude some coffee without even opening the register or scanning his phone! You need to make that bank! How else are we going to go out on trips if you’re perpetually poor from hand-me-outs.” 

Niji crosses her arms and turns her head at the accusation. “I would charge you double but your sugar daddy over here is offering to pay for you right now,” she replies in a sassy tone, forgoing her subtlety altogether.

Xiangxiang lets out a chortle and starts kicking her legs on the counter, laughing at her friend’s blatant callout. Edamura, who had been patiently standing there for a bit, feels his ears go hot at the thought of being called something he most _definitely_ wasn’t. A sugar daddy? He had the money to, but he definitely didn’t want to! If anyone was going to be a sugar daddy, it would surely be the French bastard himself. Before Edamura could gag and kill himself for the fact that he just called Laurent a “daddy”, he responds to Niji in Mandarin, trying hard to sound as respectful as possible.

“Um, hello! May I get one house specialty coffee and one cup of cocoa? Also, since you don’t mind the woman I offered to drink with, would you like to sit with us and I’d love to discuss your store with you. Also, I am not her ‘sugar daddy’, if that’s what you were expecting.”

Xiangxiang laughs become giddy with glee as she catches her friend going absolutely red and starts to bury her hands into her face, mortified that the man in front of her was able to completely understand their entire conversation. She nods her assent at his order and begins busying herself, rushing towards the sign inside the store and writing a later opening time so they would be able to talk. Calling out to her back room, two more workers that Edamura did not even realize were in the store come out and she gives them quick orders before they all start working on their drinks. 

As their drinks boil away in the fancy glass beakers, Edamura looks at Xiangxiang once more, a bit more curious this time around. He leads her to a wooden table near the back of the store and lets out a sigh of exhaustion, already done with the day. “I’m sorry for what happened back there. I wish a drink would help with your situation but it seems to be a bit more complex than that,” he apologies in English, hoping it might come across a bit easier.

The umber skinned woman taps at the table, humming out a note of content and shrugging her shoulders. “It’s fine, Edamura! I’m sorry you had to see little old me all emotional like that! Usually you have to hit a home run before I show men my true colors.” At that, she winks at Edamura and he feels a light blush form on his cheeks. He didn’t know if she was seducing him or not, but he could almost sense a similar vibe emanate from her as if she was another Laurent. A scary thought indeed. 

Edamura decides to open up the conversation with a question. “So, this man is trying to buy out the entire neighborhood?” Xiangxiang nods her head at that, a broad smile crossing her face just as it did when they first interacted.

“Yeah, and he’s been trying to buy out all the stores within the entire block! Well, not this man but his boss! I’ve never met them but I am sure they’re an asshole! He’s trying to purchase 40 hectares of land, which my family’s restaurant and this coffee shop are built on, for the purpose of boba! We have so much boba in Taiwan and so many distributors, but this man wants to build another goddamn factory on top of our hard work!”

Edamura sympathizes with the woman in front of him, reminding him of his time with Marie and Sebastian in Nice. She had a similar attachment to her restaurant as they did and he did not want to have the possibility of another hard-working family going under, especially with how the boss’ underling treated her mom. He cocks his eyebrow at Xiangxiang and is about to respond when he has a coffee cup placed in front of him. He looks up to Niji, who is smiling at him cutely, before sitting down next to Xiangxiang and handing her a large mug of hot cocoa that rivals her own. In the middle of the table that had gone unnoticed, three large mounds of boxy toast sit accompanied by butter pads and jams. He finally remembers the reason he visited the area and bows his head before excitedly taking a sip of the coffee.

It’s even better than what he expected it to taste like. Edamura’s tongue is slowly coated in lightly roasted coffee, the mouth-feel rather syrupy as his mind wanders to the delicious flavors of the liquid. He first picks out a funky earthy flavor, like the essence of beets and carrots have been infused with the beans made for this coffee. It heightens to a boldly sharp tart flavor, black cherry-like in its sourness before the brisk sweetness of a high-quality coffee is found. Juicy tangerine mellows out the earthy flavor of the coffee and honeysuckle nectar smooths over the tang of the cherry. A quick hint of chocolate can be found in the smooth finish of the cup, layering the complexities of the drink off well. It is the most insanely flavored coffee that Edamura has tried in a while, but he’ll take it because it is so damn good. He lets out a loud sigh that he didn’t realize he’d been keeping in, ‘woo’ing at the fine cup of java.

He reaches for the bread and tries a bit without toppings before proceeding to rip off two more pieces because the bread is disgustingly addictive. A crispy outside that reveals steamy fluff on the inside, which makes Makoto groan in love once he tastes the sweet bread. He almost inhales the toast when he remembers that he was asking Xiangxiang questions and hadn’t even gotten to ask Niji about her shop. 

He rubs the back of his head sheepishly, murmuring out an apology. “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you. The coffee is just absolutely phenomenal.”

Niji nods and tilts her head, cheeks blushing at the compliment. “Thank you! Those are Sumatra coffee beans, I’ve had them imported from Indonesia. It took them quite a bit to get here, but I appreciate someone enjoying my house specialty. Usually, the locals say it tastes much more like dirt to them.”

“Oh, trust me, I am definitely a fan of this! I heard about this place all the way in Vietnam at another coffee shop, so I had to come here and-”

“夭壽哦, _really?!?_ Please tell me where they work and what their address is, I’ve never been recommended by another coffee shop before!” Niji now has tears in her eyes and looks near to passing out in excitement. Edamura, almost flung backward by the amount of passion in her voice, has to promise at least ten times that he’ll give her their numbers through text. She nods and starts bouncing in her seat, hyped off the excitement that she’s had her coffee raved about by others. Xiangxiang turns back to Edamura with another grin.

“You came all the way from Vietnam? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m doing a coffee tour around the world! I’ve been on suitcases for the past two and a half years and at the end of this 6 months, I plan to move back to Japan and start my own shop. I must have at least 200 coffee shops on my cell phone so I’ll be able to wrangle in some customers through recommendations. Oh, and I have an Instagram!” Edamura pulls out his phone and shows both of them his photos, to which Niji starts frothing at the mouth to the terror of the Japanese coffee critic. She starts shaking Xiangxiang by the shoulder.

“Holy crap, Xiangxiang! The Coffeefarian is in my shop! He’s in my freaking shop!” Xiangxiang looks mildly impressed as her friend continues her full-body shock, sipping her cup of cocoa and sighing at the warmth flowing through her body.

“Well, I’m happy you have your life planned out for the time being. Meanwhile, Niji and I might have to find new housing if the asshole is able to buy out the rest of our neighbors. But, get this…” Xiangxiang leans in close to Edamura, and a cold sense of air rushes into the cafe, but not because of the door opening. It’s similar to a ghost entering a room, a dark chill shuddering down his spine. “I don’t think it’s gonna be for boba at all.”

“W-What do you mean?”

“I’ve done my research on this guy. He’s from Taiwan, Jinjing Xǔ, and his family is not known at all for the bubble tea business. More prominent families that have ties to the bubble tea industry haven’t made any offers with him either from what I’ve seen from news spanning all the way ten years back.” Xiangxiang takes another long sip of her cocoa while Edamura feels a familiar dread building in his gut and tries to chase it away with another sip of his brew.

“And I dug a bit deeper and I found irrefutable evidence regarding what he might be using these factories for. Plus a witness!” 

Niji rolls her eyes at Xiangxiang, snacking on a piece of cocoa-soaked bread as she groans. “Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Edamura. She’s always going on about this ‘conspiracy theory’ of hers.” 

Xiangxiang slaps the bread out of her hands chidingly and Niji yelps in shock, whimpering slightly at the sight of her toast now laying on the floor. “Rude, Xiang!” Xiangxiang smiles playfully at the girl before turning her attention back to Makoto.

“It’s not a conspiracy theory if it’s true! I’ve met one of the victims, I swear on my life, and they came to eat at the shop! But you know what they did to them that was so cruel, Edamura?” She leans in close to his ear and whispers softly in English, almost as if she might get lost in translation if the point would not get across well enough.

“ _Illegal sex-trafficking and prostitution_.”

The blood in Edamura’s veins runs cold as the words utter in his ears. He could almost hear them being repeated by Akemi, only in a slightly different tone and manner. He’s dealt with human trafficking and he knew, as much as he tried to deny it to this day, that some of the kids sold off are being used as sex slaves for the rich and greedy around the world. It makes the coffee in his stomach turn rancid and the bread to feel as heavy as lead. Could he have met the man Xiangxiang was talking about, at one of the many auctions he headed? The thought makes him shudder in disgust at himself and at the man who was apparently being accused by the lady in front of him, who was apparently rambling again.

“His child companies have been, on multiple occasions, accused of housing women and men of all ages in various states of undress and distress but the local news won’t say shit about it! The national news won’t say shit about it! And the man who came to eat at my shop even told me about it after he saw the poster on our wall about a week ago. I won’t go into details but it’s actually repugnant.”

Niji nudges her with an elbow, her words coming out slowly. “Xiang, I don’t deny that shitty things like that happen around Taipei. But, would you really expect someone selling boba to disguise as a sex ring? You know if your theory is true we’ll be their next targets! I don’t want that! And you still haven’t told me why your hand is bleeding in the first place.”

“Oh, that. The man tried to come into the shop and threaten us with a knife but I just grabbed it by the blade and chucked that shit in the back.” Xiangxiang shrugs back at her. Niji rolls her eyes like this is normal practice and goes back to sipping her cup of cocoa.

All the while, Makoto is bewildered beyond belief. Threatening with a knife? Grabbing said knife with her _hand?_ Who the hell was this woman? Makoto finally clears his throat and feels his shoulders sag with dread.

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

Hearing that, the woman’s blue eyes begin twinkling mischievously. “Oh, nothing, I was just hoping… since you ARE a famous Instagrammer… to possibly relay my information to the public? Maybe it’ll gain some traction.” She winks at the end, wrapping up her shady bargain.

Before Makoto could reject the insanely stupid idea, Niji is cutting him off. “Okay, Xiangxiang, stop. For real now. Don’t strongarm him into your ideas. All your evidence? Anecdotal. The man you are targeting? An asshole, sure, but we don’t know if it’s deep enough to deal with sex trafficking. Don’t ask the Coffeefarian to really let you stand on a soapbox to his audience from something that might be built on a couple of stretched lies.”

“Niji! I am not lying about this! Even if all that was bullshit, Xǔ’s still forcing us off our property with force. I am not gonna go down without fighting back. He thinks this entire area is just a monopoly for his new factory, but he doesn’t know me.”

“Yes, he doesn’t know you so how will you get him to notice you? He'll kill you before you even get another complaint out.”

Xiangxiang is silent for a few long seconds, her furious blue eyes in a contest between Niji’s calm and firm brown. Finally, she puts her head on the table and groans.

“I don’t want them to suffer.” Her voice is barely a whisper, almost unintelligible around the sounds of the coffee being brewed in the background. “I don’t want Mama and Papa to suffer. They’ve done so much and… all I’ve done is work in their shop. They love that shop. This is their last location and money’s tight. I’m just trying, okay?” Her voice sounds close to tears, so unlike the confidence surge that Edamura had encountered just 20 minutes ago.

Edamura is stuck between a rock and a hard place. He could feel the prickling in his throat, the jitters in his hands before he had to put on a persona. He didn’t want to go back to what he used to do, the memories of past cons flying around him in wide-screen flashbacks. The thrill of putting people in their place. Seeing despair take place when they realize they have got tricked. Looking down at his phone, a contemplation of whether or not he should help them out shoots through him as he opens the Create tab on Instagram. He could take her word and call the man out, but he knew next to nothing about Jinjing. This wasn’t a public battle he was going to win.

Exiting the app, he’s about to turn off his phone when a notification pops up on his screen. Looking at it closely, he sees that it’s none other than the one who pulled him into the big leagues.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

 _I may be a headache but you are the Advil that relieves my soul._ 😚

A wild thought runs through Edamura’s head before he squashes it. He shouldn’t ask for help from the stupid French man, but when he looks up, he sees a despondent Xiangxiang being comforted by an equally worried Niji. Her hand runs through the umber skinned woman’s hair, almost unsure if her methods are effective. They remind him of Marie and Sebastian so much... The thought returns, like a cockroach unwilling to die, to his head much stronger and more in his face. He doesn’t have enough time anymore to research shit about a man who probably has a ton of firewalls surrounding his privacy. He should just let a former pro do it for him, no matter how much it’ll hurt his pride. Anger and anxiety run through his veins as he texts Laurent.

[From: Edamame]

_I need a favor._

A response from Laurent comes back almost immediately, making Edamura want to slam his head into the wall.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_Hello, please stop hacking Edamame’s phone, sir/ma’am, before I track you down through the camera and ruin your life. Thank you._

[From: Edamame]

_You fucking idiot, it’s still me and I’m still asking for a favor from your dumb French ass._

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_Really, Edamame? Asking me for a favor? You told me back in LA how you never wanted to owe me favors, color me surprised._

[From: Edamame]

_Jesus Christ, you have the memory of an elephant. Times change and your dumbass is the only one who I'm sure can do this for me. Lucrative piece of shit._

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_I love backhanded compliments, especially from you, soybean._

_Also, Shi-Won has double the experience as me, you just want to message me. I understand 😙_

_You must be in quite the ordeal though. I’ll help you however you want ❤_

_What did you need, mon chéri_ _?_

[From: Edamame]

_One, for you to up and die, selfish pervert._

_Two, give me all the information you might be able to find on_ _Jinjing_ _Xǔ._

_Use your connections, whatever you can to find a trace of something bad about them._

Edamura set his phone down, looking back at Xiangxiang. She seems to have gotten out of her slump, but a little bit worse for wear. She has a pensive look on her face, sipping at her mug with less enthusiasm than before. He decides to alleviate her thoughts for a bit.

“Okay, Xiangxiang, I don’t know what to do for you, but…” At the pause, the white-haired woman’s eyes lit up in curiosity, hope, and another emotion Edamura could not place. Excitement? He couldn’t tell. “I did ask one of my colleagues to research the man as well. Let’s say he’s got a little more power than you and I have at finding stuff out.” 

Xiangxiang's eyes go wide and her face breaks out in an ear-splitting grin. ‘Really? Oh god, are you sure? Thank you so much, Edamura!” Her joy apparently has spread to her limbs as she lunges across the table to give the Japanese man a large hug. Not expecting it at all, he stumbles a bit in his chair before he rights himself. “Oh, look! There’s already a response!”

Edamura looks down at his phone on the table and sees, indeed, Laurent has responded already. He pats the clingy Xiangxiang away for a bit and reaches for the device, unlocking it and reading the message.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_I knew you’d finally get to Taipei, Edamame. And this is all without my planning!_

A sinking feeling reaches Edamura’s guts before he responds back.

[From: Edamame]

_What the fuck, Xǔ really did it?_

_You dumbass, do you expect me to go to places and ask for your help on potential bad guys?_

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_Of course! You were also so close in Greece to finding out about that traffic jam caused by the local mafia, if only you took a left. I had to con them myself, the poor men ☹_

_So, Jinjing Xû. He's been on my list for a while, but I never had the chance to visit Taiwan on my travels before meeting the apple of my eye._

[From: Edamame]

_Disgusting._

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_Oh, I see why you chose them, Edamame. I forgot how scummy this man was. Head of Taiwanese sex trafficking imports, tax fraud, and multiple accounts of assault against men, women, and children. A true piece of trash._

[From: Edamame]

_It takes one to know one._

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_Do you have a plan or just fleshing out the idea?_

_I'd be happy to let you take the reins but after London…_

[From: Edamame]

_I will kick your perfect teeth in if you mention that again._

_Also, I'm just fleshing out the idea. I will contact you once I talk more with the one who gave me the info._

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_Of course, Edamame. I'm sure whoever told you about him would love this. Tell Cynthia, Abby, and the others once you have something "brewing". 😂_

[From: Edamame]

_Your puns are not funny._

_Got you. I'll just finish up this conversation with the clientele._

Edamura finally puts his phone down again, looking up at Xiangxiang and Niji. They had both finished their cups of cocoa and were whispering to each other, one excitedly and the other nervously. He clears his throat and both women glance back at him, eyebrows raised.

"I can help you out," Edamura says and Xiangxiang starts clapping happily. Niji sighs and lays her head on the table, frazzled. 

Xiangxiang takes his hands in her hands and begins shaking them. "Whoever your friend is, thank them so much! They must be very convincing if they got you to agree."

"Oh, they're convincing alright…" Edamura rolls his eyes and continues. "But are you okay with swindling?"

The hands on his suddenly tighten hard and he lets out a yelp of pain. He looks up at Xiangxiang's face, about to ask why she did that so suddenly when he sees her expression. A fierce, glazed gaze analyzing his movements, staring hard at his face. Her voice has a slight lilt to it as she responds to him, almost like she's in a trance.

"Swindling? It sounds… illegal, but if it helps get the man off of my family's restaurant, sure." Her gaze never leaves his face as she says this, making him extremely uncomfortable under her blue gaze. 

Edamura lets out a nervous chuckle before continuing. "Y-Yeah, swindling. I believe some people call it conning?"

"Conning…" Her head tilts to the side, the words lingering on the tip of her tongue. Edamura notices her breaths quickening and her grip tightening, almost as if she was in pain. Why was she getting so upset?

"Are you fine, Xiangxiang?"

"Yes, I'm just getting a little bit of a migraine. Doesn't happen as often as it used to but I get by. The conversation is making me... curious though."

"A-Alright then. Well, try not to tell anyone. You too, Niji." The woman in question nods in affirmation and looks at Xiangxiang's hands, which are still gripping his hands.

"You should let go, Xiangxiang. His hands must be hurting."

It seems Xianxiang finally notices she is gripping too hard and lets go, releasing Makoto's hands. He lets out a breath of relief and starts rubbing his hands, trying hard to get the circulation back in place. He begins to look at her dainty hands and wonder where the hell she got all that strength from. His eyes never get the chance to go past her fingers as he notices a ring on her hand.

A golden ring embedded with a blue gemstone.

His breaths catch in his lungs. He feels like he's going insane. He's seen this ring before, seen the design on someone, but he can't place it. There's no way he's seen a similar ring like it more than 3 times in his life, but this one, in particular, gravitates towards him, compelling him to ask about it. It's so familiar, it almost makes him go mad with trying to figure out where it came from. Like an intense version of deja vu.

"Xiangxiang, that's actually a very nice ring. Where did you get it?"

She looks down at the ring on her finger nonchalantly and smiles down at it. "Oh, my father gave this to me, like, three years ago! I always wear it because it's so pretty, but my mama always scolds me because it could get stolen easily. I call it my good luck charm!"

Edamura lets out a sigh of relief and knocks his brain back into place. Three years ago, he was still doing cons with the others. He doesn't know anyone who even wore a ring on their finger, let alone owned jewelry. The only one who had constant jewelry was Laurent, and the one thing he could remember about it was that it was a necklace with a blue gemstone on it. Edamura clicks his fingers and smiles, finally figuring out the conundrum that annoyed him. That must've been where he saw the similarities!

"Well, it's a beautiful ring. I'm sure your father loves you if he gave you such a nice gift. I just got deja vu for some reason." Edamura says with a smile, his mind settled once more. Xiangxiang laughs at him as if he said a funny joke and nods her head.

"Oh, that was me too earlier! I guess since we're here in a coffee shop, it'd be deja 'brew'! Haha!" Edamura has to physically hold back a cringe at the pun she says and just nod while grimacing back at her nicely. "But it is a beautiful ring, thank you. But getting back on topic, we'll be swindling Jinjing?"

"Yes. My friend confirmed with me that he's bad news, so we'll plan something out. I'll give you more details as time goes on, but for now, just keep delaying him building it until I can think of something. You too, Niji, because I'm sure they'll be coming after this shop too."

Edamura's hands extend out to both of them, waiting for them to take his handshake. 

Xiangxiang takes one enthusiastically while Niji blushes at the hand extended towards her and nods quickly.

"I-I'll do anything to protect my shop and its workers! We're gonna stay in business to have more people recommend the shop in different countries! Thank you, Mr. Edamura!"

They both shake his hands, very excited, and a lot less glum than they did before they had their drinks. Edamura takes down the coffee shop number and Xiangxiang's number as he pays for the drinks (to the delight of Xiangxiang and chagrin of Niji), tipping extra for the good cup of joe. He waves to both of them as he leaves the shop.

"I'll keep in touch, Xiangxiang! And Niji, I'll tag the shop in my post. Once we're done with this, I'll ask you for your coffee shop recommendation."

"Of course Edamura, thank you so much!"

"Thank you so much, Mr. Edamura! Take care!"

Edamura leaves the shop and walks up to his taxi, which he had called ahead of time to drop him off at a restaurant known for their spicy beef noodle soup. It was 10:30 AM and even though he'd already had a cup of coffee and some bread, his stomach grumbled at the thought of eating some brisket and homemade noodles with hot soup. As he is driven away, he pulls out his phone and looks at the messages Laurent sent him while he was busying himself with talking to the girls.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_What's the name of the client, BTW? I want to know so that I have a name. Do you have a picture too?_

[From: Edamame]

_No picture yet, I forgot to get that. I do have a name though. Xiangxiang Guāng, female, probably early-to-mid thirties?_

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_Hmm, I can't find anything on them. Must not use social media. I'd prefer a picture to keep myself updated on them, but you are the boss._

_The pariah will keep himself on the edge of his seat guessing what she looks like._

_I'm gonna meet her soon enough and use my natural charm to get on their good side 😙_

[From: Edamame]

_Yeah, no photo for you. Definitely._

_You're not gonna seduce her. I wouldn't want to endanger her by her getting to know you._

_Plus, you couldn't charm your way out of a paper bag._

_Asshole._

Edamura contemplates sending him a message about the ring on Xiangxiang's hand and pauses. A memory, long suppressed by him, flashes through his mind as he remembers his dad telling him Laurent's backstory. About how the necklace meant something to him because of Dorothy. His blood boils at the thought but he tucks away his anger and redirects his face at the phone.

[From: Stupid Blonde Man]

_I am lovely once you get to know me and you know this, Edamame._

_Call me when you get back to the hotel and we'll start this._

_Guess I'm taking a break from being a diplomat to con once more. I'd only ever do this for you, Edamame ❤_

Edamura sighs and leans back into his chair, nodding at his screen as if Laurent will see it. He thinks back to Xiangxiang and Niji sitting in the shop, discussing what just happened passionately. Xiangxiang would probably be bouncing in her chair, excited at the thought of getting back at the man. Niji was probably fretting over whether or not they should trust Makoto, especially since they had just met them that day. 

He stares out the window and sighs, his grumbling stomach taking control of his mind once more.

Meanwhile, Xiangxiang and Niji were still talking excitedly at the coffee shop.

"Oh my god! That was crazy! Mr. Edamura must have so many connections from his coffee travels! He was really cute. Oh shit, I'm gonna get so many new customers..." While Niji slowly deteriorated from excited to nervous at the expected boom in sales, Xiangxiang is going blue from overexcitement.

"Holy crap, I didn't think something would happen so quickly! Niji, that guy is insane! I mean, he barely knows me and he's already believing me and I thought Mama and Papa and I would have to start living in those 1 bedroom apartments in the innermost part of the city, I mean-"

"Xiang! Xiangxiang, it's okay. Breathe..." Xiangxiang takes a deep breath at the calming words from her friend and lets out a breathtaking smile, looking at the ring on her hand and admiring it once more. The blue glimmered off the ring as if it was winking at her.

"You really are a good luck charm!"

Her thoughts flashback to the generous Japanese man and she hugs Niji tight, needing to hold onto something lest her dream be snatched away. She would be able to keep her family going. She would be free.

* * *

**FIVE DAYS LATER**

Edamura sits in his newly upgraded hotel room, reading a magazine. A bored voice rings up next to him.

"We've been here for two hours and done jack shit. So, we're going to do what, virgin?"

"We'll discuss that once Laurent arrives. That bastard is unusually late for something I asked him to be here for!"

"Edamame, relax. He's down in the lobby, he just texted me."

"Thank you, Cynthia. I'm not sure why he just won't tell me."

The redhead shrugs and lays her arm along the head of the couch, sipping an enormous amount of red wine from a crystal glass. Abigail is sitting on the bed, playing video games on the large flat screen. Shi-Won and Kudo are both talking at the dining table, something about Kudo's child. A knock at the door grabs everyone's attention but Abby's, who continues to play her FPS game.

Edamura rolls his eyes and gets up to open the door. His stomach has been acting up all morning and he can't figure out why. He's had good food and plenty of sleep but there are knots everywhere in his gut, unable to go away. Probably just nerves from his first big con discussion in a while. He opens the door with his eyes closed, huffing at the tall man in front of him.

"Why is it that whenever I plan something, you're late? We've been waiting for- mmph!" He tries to speak but can't because there is a pair of eager lips latching to his and trying desperately to swallow him whole. Edamura begins flailing around and grasping at the door frame, trying to separate himself and the desperate French man in front of him. Two hands appear out of nowhere and grip him by the ass, pulling him even closer and making him squeal with mortification as he sees out of the corner of his eyes Cynthia taking a video, smirking happily. Abby continues playing her video games and Shi-Won is collecting money from a grumbling Kudo. His eyes widen as he realizes he was the only one not to notice that this would happen.

The two hands on his ass suddenly lift him up and he's in the air. Out of reflex, he wraps his legs around Laurent's waist and the man smiles against his lips. Getting a bit angrier, Makoto bites at Laurent's lips and he groans, releasing the other's mouth from his. Immediately, Edamura screams.

"FUCKER!" 

Laurent takes no heed to this comment and only utters one word to the room, his sleepy eyes narrowing more in lust.

"Bedroom?"

The entire room points at the mentioned area simultaneously, even Abby who is busy smashing demon heads in. Laurent gives them all a winning smirk and starts walking towards the bedroom. Edamura tries to squirm out of his hold but the grasp the French man has on him is iron-clad, holding him close to the infuriating blonde.

Edamura feels something large and hard press against his thigh and his eyes widen exponentially. He tries once more to unclasp his legs from the man holding him, willing to drop to the floor in favor of whatever is going to happen next. Almost as soon as he drops them, Laurent grabs the back of his knees and hooks his arms under them, keeping them in place even further. The Japanese man yelps and clasps his arms around Laurent's neck even more. It's the only thing preventing him from smashing his skull on the wooden flooring.

Laurent has been sucking red markings into his neck the entire time, not caring at all about the younger man's efforts at deterring him. As soon as Edamura unlatches his legs and he almost falls, the Belgian man bites him possessively on the neck, eliciting a cry of pained pleasure. He places wet kisses on his neck all the way to the bed, where he unceremoniously throws Makoto soon after.

Edamura, meanwhile, is furious. Laurent is late and as soon as he arrives, he just kisses him in front of everyone! What was his deal? Did he not know the meaning of the word 'privacy'!?!

"Hey, bastard! Wait one fucking moment! Don't pull this shit on me as soon as you arrive! We have a meeting, what the-" And then just as he's about to finish his sentence, a large body cages him in. The room is somewhat dark, the curtains covering a majority of the sunlight and the door closed without Makoto even noticing. There is some light filtering in around the drapes, making the shadows of the room sharper and pronounced. Which makes Laurent look even more stunningly sexy.

The blonde man is smiling, but not a regular kind of smile. This one has underlying tones, ones that would put a succubus to shame and make even the dirtiest of whores blush. His blue eyes are crazed, holding Edamura in place with its piercing intensity. The blonde hair on his head and sideburns are almost as pristine as they were the last time he saw him 4 months ago, save for a few ruffles here and there from running his hands through it. The man looked deprived, craving something. Edamura had an inkling as to what that craving might be.

"The meeting can wait, Edamame. Didn't I tell you?" A hand grips Makoto's face, squishing his cheeks together, softly but firmly. The Japanese man's eyes widen at the dominant gesture. He shakes his head, not remembering what this French bastard had told him. Laurent tuts at him, disappointed, and begins to close the distance between them. Edamura closes his eyes and whines when he hears the words growl out of the ex-con artist's mouth.

"You have such a bad memory and a bad mouth. I told you: I am going to punish _you._ "

A light shiver runs down Edamura's spine. The meeting could wait a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I CAN'T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO WRITE THIS IN. I set a goal for this one lmao. 200 kudos overall on the fic and I'll write Laurent's POV concerning the texts and an extended cut of the end bit ;) 
> 
> Xiangxiang has finally entered the building! 
> 
> A lot happened this chapter and I also feel not a lot has happened this chapter. I remember one of the comments in the last chapter saying they couldn't wait for Edamura and Dorothy to meet and I'm just like-
> 
> Who's Dorothy? 🤡👁👄👁🤡 
> 
> /s ISSA JOKE FAM.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry if I write her a bit... OC? I'm not sure where to draw the line yet between original and in-character for someone so... mysterious. Please let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, to everyone who's bound to complain about himbo Edamura and not recognizing the ring, that man has probably only seen Laurent whip that ring out fully like, thrice? Four times? Once in Case 1 for sure when Edamura is smashed to find out they are ALIVE and not noticing no damn ring, and maybe a couple of times between Case 2-4 when Laurent is wearing his revealing Hawaiian shirts or something. Not enough to be relevant till like Case 4, and it's not even touched upon much more. I'mma keep it like that cause it MAKES SENSE MKAY?
> 
> Coffee Descriptions:  
>  **Taipei** : It was REALLY fucking hard trying to find coffee online native to Taiwan and seeing their flavor descriptions fully, but I made do with some Sumatra beans! These beans are grown mostly in Indonesia, but can be grown in places that are jungle-y and tropical. They have a very... distinct flavor profile that makes them super funky and earthy to a lot of beginners, but coffee fans have noticed some blends and bean mixes can have chocolate notes, citrus notes, and sweet notes that mellow out the finish. Niji worked very hard to make the coffee blend good so Edamura better like it ):<
> 
> Words:  
> 亲 - Dear, or in this context, bae. Term of endearment.  
> 夭壽哦 - Oh my god!
> 
> I have to leave this one in the back of my mind for a bit because I need to update my other fics, but I'll be sure to keep writing more chapters and editing them so that they come together well! I hope you all are ready because I am :D
> 
> Please leave some kudos and give me some comments! I LOVE COMMENTS :D


	3. CASE 5_3: Rise and Grind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a month, I am back with a new chapter! 
> 
> This one is a bit more plot-heavy and goes into the semantics of the con, but it also lays the foundation for this fic. I've spent the past month planning the entire thing out and, honestly, I keep coming up with new ideas on the spot. It's exciting because I have a solid idea of how this fic will end now. Just... stay in touch for the journey.
> 
> TW: Minor but graphic description of gore/light abuse
> 
> Please enjoy!

At the top of the dining table, Edamura coughs into his hand and he looks down at everyone staring at him earnestly when one certain person's hand raises up. Edamura sighs wearily, knowing what’s coming up, before pointing at the person and nodding.

"Yes, Abby, a question?"

"Uh-huh. Why does your neck look like it got into a boxing match with a baby and the baby won?"

Everyone breaks out in laughter at Abby's jab while Edamura fumes at the head of the table. "Stop making fun of these! You all know where they come from."

"Unfortunately," Abby chimes in once more.

"Seconded."

"I agree."

"It's disgusting."

"Hey!" Both Edamura and Laurent now chide in at the same time, causing the laughter to increase its size and pitch. Laurent is unusually quiet for today, which would be concerning if they didn't take his new appearance into account. His clothes reeked of post-coital pheromones and he has a grin-addled face. His hair is mussed up, eyes calm as a river, and his shirt is unbuttoned and untucked with small red bites lining his collarbone. Edamura huffs and leans back in his chair, a dull thumping appearing in his head.

"Okay, guys. Sorry for calling all of you here on such short notice, but I have a new job for us. You all in?"

"Edamame, we wouldn't fly from all across the world to let you know in Taiwan that we aren't available. Plus, it's exciting to go back to doing this! Taking care of Kawin is nice and acting is always a great challenge but putting my skills to use for cons? Even better." Cynthia takes a modest drag from her wine glass before setting it down, a small smile gracing her face.

"Climbing mountains and skydiving is fun, but I guess hanging out with y'all is more exciting." Abby shrugs as she continues playing her game at the table.

"I'll always help you, Edamura-san! You worked for me and even went to jail on my behalf. I could never say sorry or repay you enough for that." Edamura smiles at Kudo, a bit touched at his response.

"I have to help a fellow Korean out." Abby snorts as Edamura bangs his head on the table, his happy mood gone once again. Shi-Won is smiling though, a thoughtful glance on her face. "But, to be truthful, you had a lot of potential to be great all the way back when Laurent scouted you. Seeing you initiate a con like this should be interesting."

"And if it's as hectic as his last planned 'con', the payout should be even better."

"You know it, darling!" Cynthia and Shi-Won high five each other, excited at the prospect of swindling more money out of their target. Edamura slams his hands on the table and regathers everyone's scattered attention.

"Okay! Let's get on with the job info." Edamura pulls out a manila folder from underneath the table and opens it, displaying the contents in front of the party. A couple of photos and files pop out.

"Our target is Jinjiang Xǔ. He is the 54-year-old CEO of Xena Corporations, which primarily focuses on beauty products and a large nail salon chain popular in Northern and Southwest Asia and parts of Eastern Europe. Recently, they've been trying to branch into the boba industry with some success, able to fund three different boba factories with the most recent one being their fourth."

Edamura places a photo of one of the factories on the table, pointing at it. "However, our sources tell us lots of the boba factories have been found to house different materials unrelated to boba, such as sewing machines and bunk beds, similar to a sweatshop. Multiple trucks have been seen coming in and out of these factories despite the state of these machines not being enough to pump out enough to fill a truckload. Furthermore, the disappearance of people in Northern and Southwest Asia has increased dramatically over the past two and a half years. Despite us dismantling the Suzaku Empire," Edamura takes a shuddering breath at the memory of Akemi and continues, "these disappearances have been unaccounted for in that regard and seem to have stayed consistent for the past few years."

Edamura pulls out one more photo and everyone grimaces once they see it. It's extremely gruesome, an emancipated nude body of a girl barely clinging to life covered in bruise marks, cum, and something dried running down her red-slashed legs. "This is one of the victims found just a couple of weeks ago at an orgy palace in Chiayi City, Taiwan. Tattered, bruised, and nearly dead at 19 years old, almost 2,890 kilometers away from her home in Mongolia. She was last seen over a year ago at one of the company's nail salons, getting a manicure. Once she was put into intensive care, she confessed how she was sexually trafficked around Asia and ended up here in Taiwan to the nurses. She's been moved out of the country at the moment for safety reasons, but I have 5 more photos of boys and girls with similar stories. This is the type of company we're dealing with."

Cynthia raises a hand to her face, eyes wide and horrified. "Oh my god, these are so much more vivid than the Suzaku case…"

"I didn't think I'd agree with you, but yeah. What Akemi did was inhumane enough, but this… this is monstrous. Especially hearing the stories during their confinement." Edamura's stomach curls at the thought of having to relisten to the tapes, the broken voices of children and adults alike reliving their worst nightmares, voices too tired to cry again.

"The person who brought this to my attention is named Xiangxiang Guāng, a restaurant worker at the edge of Taipei, Taiwan. She'll be counting on us to con him so she doesn't have to lose her family restaurant."

Everyone nods, some silently rolling their eyes at the familiar situation presented to them.

"So, some things about Jinjiang that Laurent, " Makoto states as he gestures to the relaxed Belgian man sitting next to him, "was able to find out about him is that he's a huge foodie. He enjoys traveling to foreign countries for lunch and being back home for dinner. His kitchen staff has three personal chefs, each specializing in his favorite cuisines. We'll use his food addiction against him." Edamura grabs a printout he created of a 2D room layout and lays it flat on the table.

"I'll get close to him using my online persona, the Coffeefarian, and Laurent acting as a corrupt Michelin Inspector. We're gonna "attend" a premiere food gala together. Everything fanciful and playing into his desires full of his favorite foods and other 'interests', which will include paid actors." 

Cynthia raises a hand to pause Edamura. "You're going to hire paid strippers for your con, Edamura? Impressive, but what if he touches them? Knowing him, he might want to bring one home."

Edamura goes bright red at that comment. What absolute timing. "W-Well, that's where y-you guys come in."

Cynthia, Abby, and Shi-Won blink a few times, not processing the comment. Once it does, a multitude of voices breaks loose. 

"I'm going to be a _what?!?_ "

"Filthy virgin, you've already seen me naked. Now you want to see me naked and serving you food?"

"Now, now, ladies! Shi-Won has some experience serving food like this, I'll make great honeypots out of you two!"

Edamura buries his embarrassed face into his hands, trying hard not to bury his hands in more as Cynthia starts shaking Laurent in a tipsy rage.

"I bet this was your idea, you blonde idiot! You stupid pervert! I demand you make yourself one of the servers too!" The thought of a naked Laurent serving pieces of dried meat in nothing but a skimpy swimsuit leaves Makoto speechless and mouth slightly open, trying to determine whether he wants to hurl or to get a boner. Laurent laughs airily and nods his head almost too easily in agreement.

"Of course! I can always have Kudo take my spot as Michelin Inspector, but who else will be the suave man guiding Mr. Xǔ to his demise?"

"Edamame, obviously. He has just as much of a sexy appeal to him than you do. You even said so." Laurent shrugs at Cynthia's blunt comment and smiles at Edamura.

"I stand corrected. You hear that, soybean? Cynthia wants equality, she gets equality," the blonde idiot says cheekily, throwing a wink at Edamura. Groaning tiredly, Makoto writes down some extra notes on a piece of paper in front of him.

"Alright, there. Kudo will be the Michelin Inspector. We'll get close to Xǔ at the gala, make him invest in our food expansion A.K.A fake prostitution idea, and blackmail him so hard he won't be able to fund his sick trafficking ring. Now, all we need to do is get set and make contact with our target. I plan to do that in a few days when he visits his tailor here in downtown Taipei. The only people who have to worry over here with me is Kudo and Abby. Any questions?"

Everyone seems to be pretty content in their roles, even Cynthia who, despite reservations, has come to terms with her part. She mentions that she's going to start cooking dinner once the meeting finishes and that seems to wrap things up quickly. With the meeting over, everyone starts to mill around the hotel room. A hand comes down on Edamura's shoulder.

"It's great to finally see you again, soybean." Laurent's hand is unceremoniously smacked from Edamura's shoulder, the Japanese man glaring at him.

"Don't touch me again or talk to me unless it's about the con. These," Edamura points to his red scarf of a neck, "are all your fault, you French fuck, and I will get my revenge soon."

"I'm Belgian, Edamame," Laurent states with a pout on his face.

"You're a Bitch-ian, Laurent."

"That's a rather weak insult, Edamame. I'm sure you'll improve with time, just like your English. Oh, wait..." Edamura rolls his eyes and knocks Laurent aside at his unneeded commentary, ignoring the con man once more.

He sits next to Abby on the couch and falls back into it, not even fazed at the middle finger directed at him. The Arabian girl next to him side-eyes him while continuing her game.

"So we're going on another con because some random woman let her woo you with her sorrows? Your big heart strikes again, Edamame."

Edamura groans at the nickname. "Please not you too, Abby. I already can't stand Laurent and Cynthia calling me that."

"Not my problem, pay-per-view." Another groan escapes him as she glares at him blankly. "But, I do hope we catch this fucker. Whenever you get involved, shit always seems to turn sideways and that's where the fun begins."

A feral look slowly spreads on Abby's face and Edamura has to hold back a fond grin. He's heard the girl speak about her past a bit over the years and vaguely understands why she's like this. He might not be able to fulfill her death rush all the time, as unhealthy as that may seem, but being someone so close to the sporadic woman and being trusted by her to provide some relief is good enough.

A few hours pass by without anything happening besides a tasty dinner and more sexual passes by Laurent, which get denied swiftly by Makoto. Once everyone is about to go back to their rooms, barring Shi-Won and Kudo who left even earlier under the excuse that "older people need their beauty rest", a message notification pings on Edamura's phone and he looks down to read it. 

[From: Xiangxiang Guāng]

_Hi, Edamura!!! I was just wondering if you'd like to meet sometime soon and discuss the plans for the con! I would love to bring everyone involved to the restaurant and we'll serve you some food._

[From: Makoto Edamura]

_I think we're fine right now. The people on my team are professionals and have to get into a headspace to really perform well._

_Also, between the two of us, there's a certain someone who I really don't want you to meet because of how much of a sleazy bastard they are. They might try to seduce you._

"I suddenly feel a slight shiver. Edamame, you better not be talking bad about me."

"Don't worry, Laurent, I'm not." Edamura lies to him as easily as possible, preoccupied more with the phone in his hand.

[From: Xiangxiang Guāng]

_How protective of you lol. I'm good with confrontations like that though so it's all fine. When would I be able to meet all of you?_

Edamura put his hand to his chin and narrowed his eyes. If everything was to go according to plan, they could meet her after they convince the target to go to the gala. Over the past few days, Xiangxiang had been texting Edamura about what she can do to help promote and smooth the process of the con along. It was unnerving to see how committed she was to getting rid of the Taiwanese tycoon and Makoto was a bit unsure how to have her help. However, he thought of something rather beneficial for the both of them.

He had texted her that she could help provide some of the food for the gala buffet. Since her family was in the restaurant business and one of Xû's favorite dishes was Taiwanese seafood, they could provide some of that to him and be compensated for the cooking. They hadn't set a date yet to plan out all the other foods they'd need for the con though.

[From: Makoto Edamura]

_How about after I make contact in a few days? We need to meet with other food providers and you can help us narrow it down a bit._

_Once we get the ball rolling for the plan, it will go by much faster. We're usually in this for the long game, but I don't feel comfortable having him around much longer with what he's in charge of. You should come to the hotel we are at though so your place doesn't get scouted out._

[From: Xiangxiang Guāng]

_Of course! I'll bring some food over for you to taste from the restaurant. See you in a few days, Edamura!_

Edamura's thumbs stop typing and he closes the application as a person sits next to him.

"Are you alright, Edamame?" Laurent is now holding a similar glass of wine that Cynthia had been drinking, sipping at it slowly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. The client just wants to be a part of the con so I'm allowing them to cater some of the gala. They won't be the main event but they'll be contributing."

"Oh my, how interesting. They sound energetic. When will they be arriving?"

"On a day I have you picking out your clothes. Far, far away from here." A glance to the side has Edamura snickering at the French man's unamused pouty face. "I'm kidding, all of you will meet her. Probably at the end of the week after I make contact." 

Laurent nods curtly and raises his glass, blushing from the alcohol influence. "Cheers to that. I promise I won't flirt with her."

"You promising something is like asking a bucket with cracks in it not to leak."

"I told you with time your insults would improve, Edamame." 

Edamura snorts at the comeback and points to the door. "Out, now."

Laurent merely winks at him and takes a final gulp of his glass of wine. "Whatever do you mean, Edamame? This is my hotel room now."

A vein suddenly appears on the Japanese man's neck, threatening to burst. "You better be lying your ass off, Laurent."

"Nope! I transferred the room over to me and paid for the entire bill, so you and I will f- MMPH!" He doesn't get to finish his sentence as a now murderous bean tries to asphyxiate the Belgian man below him with a throw pillow. 

Laurent starts flailing under the pressure on his face before grabbing the furious man on top of him by the waist and sending both of them careening to the floor. Edamura's shoulder connects with the hard wooding on the floor and lets out a yelp of pain, releasing the pillow in favor of his throbbing shoulder. The taller man is finally allowed air and gets up off the ground, panting against the sofa with choked breaths of air.

"W-Wow, Edamame, you-you really can't- hah... -really can't take a joke anymore. I was kidding."

Edamura rubs his shoulder, wincing, before narrowing his eyes at Laurent. "I can never trust you to do me like that, you bastard." Laurent nods and grins once more at Edamura, eyes softening despite the violent act done to him.

"Laurent, go back to your room to jack off and leave Edamame alone. The little brain between your legs has more brain cells than your regular one does. It probably doesn't even recognize that Edamame was actually trying to kill you."

"Edamame would never!" 

A few silent seconds stretch by before the Belgian man shakes his head, chuckling at the deadpan Abby. "No, I take that back. He most definitely might."

Brushing his shoulder, Laurent gets up off the sofa and brushes away the dirt that had clung to his expensive suit and refixes his hair. He glances down at the hurt Edamura on the floor and graciously holds out a hand to him, waiting for him to reach up to catch it. The Japanese man is still holding his shoulder in pain, not realizing that help is nearby, and begins to sit up when the blonde man’s voice calls out to him.

“Take my hand, Edamame. You look a bit winded.”

Looking back up at Laurent, Edamura grimaces up to see the older man extending his hand to him with a smile. Standing there, waiting for him. Expecting him. 

_The floor is cold. The air around him hot with smoke and gunfire and the hollering of people fills his senses. The two conflicting senses are overwhelming. He opens his eyes._

_His father stands above him, the red liquid running down his chest from the burst pack. He’s smiling down at him and saying words that hold some meaning, holding out his hand with a smile on his face. A smile he hasn’t seen in a decade or so. One that holds immense warmth, fondness, and pride that his son had just conned Akemi Suzaku of 100 billion yen. A hand that expects him to forgive him for all the things he’s done to the family, to him, to his mom._

_It sickens him to no end. He wants to stab the hand with the sword that was kicked out of his hand. He actually wants to run the sword through his father’s gut._

_But he won’t. He can’t. He hides his pain, his fury, his tears, and…_

Edamura smacks the hand away with a disgruntled look on his face. “Why’d you push me to the floor, dude! First my neck, now my shoulder…”, he says while rubbing his arm.

A flash of confusion passes Laurent's face before he falls back into his easy grin and nods sagely. “Ah, sorry about that. If you’d like, I can help massage the area back into place if you-”

Edamura doesn’t even say anything as he hauls the tall blonde man out the front door, almost carrying the man with how noncompliant he’s being. He pushes the man out and Laurent stumbles forward before catching himself on the wall. He looks behind himself and grins at the Japanese man, leaning back and waving with his eyes closed. 

“We’ll discuss more of this soon, Edamame! Good night.” 

“Good night, Laurent.” Edamura closes the door on him, letting out a final sigh of relief. He releases the doorknob, just realizing that he had been gripping it white-knuckled, and returned to the living room where Abby and Cynthia were cleaning up the small messes around them.

Cynthia looks up at him and smiles. “Did you kiss your lover goodbye?” 

Edamura makes a disgusted face and sits down on the couch. “No, I didn’t. Kicked his ass to the curb,” he says as he yawns and looks at the bedroom wistfully. “I think I’m gonna go to sleep now. I’ll see you both in the morning. Don’t-”

“-let Laurent in. With how much you hate him, almost every sentence seems to be tied to him, pay-per-view.”

Edamura throws a middle finger at Abby, which is thrown back with double the vigor.

"Good night, Cynthia. Good night, Abby."

"Good night, Edamame." Both of their responses, simultaneously teasing and impassive, make him groan half-heartedly. 

He retreats into the hotel's bedroom and is hit by the feeling of the cold night air. He shivers, trembling as he walks towards the opened window to close it. At least it had gotten rid of the smell of sex in the room. He shivers once again and he isn’t sure if it is because of the current gust of wind blowing into the room or the thought of what he did here just a few hours before.

As he strips off his clothes and snuggles underneath his comforter, his thoughts barely have the time to ponder more on the con of the upcoming days as sleep takes him under.

* * *

"Rise and grind, Edamura-san!"

Sipping his cup of coffee for the day (which were made from a small bag of beans that he purchased in Istanbul), Edamura yawns back at Kudo. The old man has a wide smile on his face and his outfit for today is nondescript, befitting a person supposedly in charge of tasting restaurants under the radar. Edamura still has yet to change into his clothes for the day.

"おはよう, Kudo-san," [Good morning, Kudo.] The younger Japanese man mumbles out to the elder.

"I'm ready to go out whenever you are! Is Abigail ready too?" 

Edamura scratches his head as he downed the last dregs of the cup of joe, placing his cup in the room's sink to wash later. A fleeting sigh leaves him as he walks back to his room. "Yes, she's in the bathroom at the moment changing. She needs her privacy to get into that specific… attire."

At the same time that he was about to open his door, it flings wide open. Edamura jumps back, the door barely missing his head as the woman in question walks out onto the living room floor.

Black and pink are not usually a staple of Abigail's attire, but today is an exception. Her regular style of hoodies and t-shirts have been completely replaced, which has instead been fitted with a layered pouf black dress filled with hot pink frills and black platform shoes, where the heels had been accented with more hot pink. The straps of her shoes are entirely outfitted with translucent gems that shimmer in the light, showing off the wealth that encapsulates the cute outfit. Edamura nods his head once.

"I'd say Cynthia did a great job choosing an outfit for you."

"Yeah. It feels like I'm in a tutu again. Except no ballerina would ever wear shoes like these." As if to make a point, Abby runs at the wall and jumps off of it, doing a one-legged backflip as Edamura screams of fear, from the possibility of her accidentally snapping her neck, echoes around the room. Despite his anxiety spike, she lands perfectly in arabesque, holding her hands out for balance. 

Her head snaps to the Japanese coffee critic as she deadpans him while holding position. "Get dressed, pay-per-view. We need to be there by 2 PM and I was promised popcorn chicken by Kudo once we're done." 

Edamura nods in relief as he shuts the door to pull his brown suit on.

Over the past few days, they had custom ordered a suit matching Abby's to be arrived just half an hour after Xú's, which would be perfect to promote their "business", a food-share company that would help bridge restaurants connections between Asia and central Europe disguised as another prostitution ring. Laurent had already pulled ropes to make the entire plot believable, so now Edamura just had to come into contact with him.

Their arrival at the tailors is met with a short waiting time, sitting down at the waiting area, and exchanging meaningless plans to each other until the man of the hour comes into view. Mr. Jinjiang Xú.

Professionally dyed black hair. A larger than average gut. A lustrous Rolex watch on his left wrist. Studded earrings in both lobes. Hand-pressed clothes that looked too nice on a man that was the head of a criminal ring. Edamura gives Xǔ a once-over before nodding minutely and re-wrapping his arm around Abby, her acting as his primary "eye candy" bait. A pivotal piece to put the whole plan all together.

If Abigail was uncomfortable with the contact, she didn't let it show. Her eyes soften as she snuggles under Edamura's arm, effortlessly looking complacent and demure. Her eyes glance up and she catches sight of Xǔ in all his glory. A gasp of excitement leaves her as if she is utterly taken by the man, and the operation begins.

"Can I have that?" Her loud exclaims draw Xú's attention and Edamura has to inhale a quick breath that always comes before meeting a new target before he puts on his facade.

"What do you want, pet?" Edamura drawls out at her in a disinterested tone. "You can't just yell out like that in public."

"I want…" Her mouth puckers as she scans over Xú, eyeing his entire look before settling on his eyes. The man matches her gaze and waves at her, obviously amused at the Iraqi girl in her cute dress. "I want new earrings! Like the fat man's over there!"

Edamura pulls his hand back and smacks Abby hard upside the head, eliciting a weep of pain (that is very not Abby-like) from her and a wince from Kudo, who is obviously not expecting abuse of any sort from his former partner. The younger Japanese con-artist talked this out with the woman in the past ("I've done a con for Laurent that involved me getting my ass kicked by a professional boxer. If you think that you can hurt me, my left pinky toe has more strength than your whole right arm." She had discussed to him over a cup of American coffee a few years ago.) and is already thinking of twenty different ways to apologize to Abby by buying her so much Taiwanese food before he hears a harsh gasp of indignance come from in front of him.

Hook.

"Have some fucking manners, Abby! You don't even know who that man is, do you?" Abby shakes her head at Edamura's question and he facepalms himself. "What did I expect? I got you to be cute, not self-aware. Go over there and say sorry. Now." 

It doesn't have to be Abby who goes up to the man before there's a large body standing in front of him. Edamura looks up to find Xǔ standing above his waiting couch, an army of bodyguards holding his flank. He looks slightly angry, but more importantly, he looks interested in Edamura. 

"Hello there, sir. I'm sorry you had to see that." Edamura answers to the bulking figure above him in Mandarin. "I'm also sorry that she said that about you."

"I'm less interested in that and more interested in why the hell you are beating her up?" Edamura has to refrain from snorting at the irony of what this dirtbag trafficker just said. His way of speaking is also different from the normal Taiwanese accent as if he grew up in mainland China. "She did nothing wrong besides insulting me, which is my fault for gaining a bit of a tummy. Does she want my earrings? I'll give them to her. I just don't want to see weak shits like _you_ doing something to a woman like her." Xǔ takes off his earrings (which, by what Edamura can tell, will fetch into the millions for retail) and gently hands them to Abigail with a smile. Abigail returns the smile gently before tucking them away in a small pink purse Cynthia gave her.

The bigger man turns his attention back to Edamura. "So, you beat women, hm? Is that what gets you off?" Xǔ begins to approach further before Edamura puts a soft hand up.

"I'm sorry if we got off on the wrong foot, Xǔ." The man raises an eyebrow at his name and looks down at Edamura with a new sense of fascination. He knew he had him interested because most didn't know Xǔ unless you were one of the two: a beautician or a trafficker. "My name is Makoto and I'm happy to meet you."

"The feeling isn't returned, Makoto." Xǔ readjusts his suit before continuing. "If you're gonna talk about beauty, I don't have much time to talk about products at the moment. My team is currently formulating-"

"Oh, I'm not here about beauty, don't worry." 

Cutting him off seems to do the trick. Xǔ looks down at Edamura again, confused but a conclusion forming in his eyes. "If it's not about beauty, then-"

"I'm also into the _boba industry_ , here and there." Xú's eyes widen before he relaxes and grins, leaning back against the wall. He clicks his fingers once and his mass of bodyguards all begin to line the perimeter of the waiting room, some leaving and closing the door that leads from the room to the tailor's store. His entire demeanor has also seemed to change now, once professional and amiable to something more conniving and sinister. A knock on the other side of the wall gives the trafficker a signal and Xǔ starts speaking again.

"Ah, I gotcha. This your prize girl then?" He says while taking a moment to crack his neck. Edamura notices that his accent has morphed slightly, now shifting towards Taiwanese Mandarin like Niji. Seems like he was putting on an act for them too.

The Japanese man gives him a beaming grin and closes his eyes. "Her name is Abiha, but she westernized it to Abigail. I just call her Abby. She needs a little discipline here and there because she gets so excited, but I would never damage my goods so harshly. She's as good as I've ever received off in a trade in the Middle East."

"And him?"

Edamura tilts his head and opens his eyes to look over at Kudo, who is playing the part of "scared old man" quite well. He's been a part of three international cons with him in the past, a seasoned professional. The face he’s currently playing would probably keel over and die if Edamura doesn't answer for him. 

A smile graces Edamura's face as he glances back at Kudo. "Him? Oh, he's an old friend from Japan. He's bringing me and my girl over to one of his special spots for food later in Taiwan. A certified Michelin Inspector." 

That seems to catch Xú's immediate attention and he rushes over to Kudo, a wide smirk gracing his features. "Michelin Inspector, you say? I heard the pay ain't too good but if you're available to help another man out with something like food, I'd be good for when I visit Japan next." 

Great topic changer. "Are you interested in food?"

"Of course! As you can see from my stomach," Xǔ says as he points at his stomach, "I can't get enough of it. Ain't that obvious, Abby?" She nods and lays backward into Edamura's lap, giggling softly.

"I have a bit of a proposition then." Xǔ gives Edamura a questioning look and rolls his eyes.

"If it's about food expansion to Europe, no. Been there, tried that. The market ain't open enough in the East to expand to the West without having racial issues pop up everywhere. The people don't want to 'eat dogs, catch a disease, slurp worms' and other bullshit like that. More lucrative to try America or-"

"How about prostitution expansion to Europe?" A beat of silence resonates around the room as Edamura says that and, for a single second, wonders if he’s pushed it too far.

But Xǔ only raises one eyebrow and sighs, stroking his double chin. "Damn, you’re direct as fuck. Now you have my attention. I've tried reaching out but those goddamn Slavs won't let any Asian dealers into their territory! How the fuck did you do it?"

"Social media. I have an influential Instagram with about 100,000 followers, a WeChat and LINE with similar followings, and a whole lot of connections to European businesses in the landlocked countries."

"What's your handle?"

"The Coffeefarian." Xǔ scoffs and pulls out his phone and raises a finger, engrossed in the task of confirming his account. Once he's seen it, Xǔ looks over at the bodyguard on his right who also has his phone out as he nods his head. Xǔ nods his head in approval, smirking evilly. The bodyguard on the right must be his right-hand man who checked the other account, Edamura notices, and he'll have to keep a close eye on him. 

"Well, well, who would have guessed a coffee connoisseur page would be holding such a dark secret." Xǔ claps his hands and lets out a bark of laughter. "Shit, never thought I'd be making a deal today!"

"Well, we don't have to rush this. Haven't even heard what you want from me, of course." Edamura lays back on the couch and rubs Abby's head, feeling her growl annoyingly (which must look like a purr of enjoyment in Xu’s eyes) at the gesture.

Xǔ nods at the comment. "True. How did you know I would be here, anyway, Makoto…"

"Sasaki." Better to think up a fake name now that he's been in the jail system. Edamura hopes he won't do too much snooping, even though he has Laurent, who asked some programmer con-artists to create digital footprints over the years tied to his profile with that surname. "And to be quite honest, I was hoping to meet you at a better time! I just came here because I ordered a suit to match my darling Abby! Her dress is just the cutest and we were hoping to see how it'd match in person."

All of a sudden, Xǔ slams on the wall of the tailor's shop and startles all three of the con-artists. "Hey! Tsai! You got a suit for a Makoto Sasaki in there?"

An elderly voice croaks out through the cracks in the wall. "Yes, I do. One moment and I'll bring it out... "

The larger Taiwanese man looks back at Edamura and grins. "He's been my tailor for the past 30 years. You'll definitely love it."

Edamura is greeted by a frail man named Tsai who's glasses have to be as thick as a deck of cards who dresses him in his new suit, coupled with a matching pair of black gloves. His suit fits him perfectly and without any adjustments needed, even though he sent his measurements online, and the pink dress shirt compliments the black much more than he expected. Standing next to Abby, he feels a bit embarrassed as Xǔ whistles in appreciation.

"Holy shit, Tsai. That looks incredible. I hope that ain’t a one-time use because it looks nice.”

“Oh, I plan to get a lot of use out of this one. I’m going to use it tonight and probably when I attend a gala in a few weeks,” Edamura notes as he pulls on his black gloves, taking care to slowly fit his fingers in their correct holes. “Would you like to attend? I’m sure you’re a busy man, but it will be a food gala. It's gonna be my first time, but my connection said that it’s something that would be “sensually spectacular”. Piqued my interest, if I’m not gonna lie.”

Line.

Xǔ rubs his hands and narrows his eyes suspiciously. “A gala? Where? Why haven’t I heard anything about it?”

Makoto shrugs his shoulders and stands back to hold Abby’s shoulders, gloved hands rubbing them possessively when, really, he is rubbing them nervously. He needs to direct this suspicion elsewhere. “I don’t know why they might have not invited you. It might have just been the last minute, but honestly, I think it’s because they plan to sell some… products at the same time. It was set up by one of my European investors outside of Taiwan, so I’m sorry if you hadn’t heard it yet.”

It was definitely the right call. “Damn fucking Euros! Those pieces of shit don’t know the power of the Taiwanese trade! Give me the fucking address, Sasaki. I’ll get them to notice us Asians!” 

And sinker.

Edamura had just reeled in the Xǔ to his plan with little effort. It was surprising how naive Xǔ actually was. But as they shake hands and begin to part ways, Xu’s bodyguard whispers in his ear and he smiles, pulling out his phone.

“Sasaki, I’m gonna need your inspector friend’s phone number. I don’t have time to search all over the place for good spots to eat, so if I can pick at his brain every now and then for restaurants, it’d be good.” 

Edamura and Kudo both look at each other once, clearly knowing what was going on underneath the guise. They wanted Kudo’s phone number so that if things turn out to be not what they seem, they could use the old man as leverage since his texts are able to be tracked through GPS. Xu’s bodyguard probably reminded him of that possibility, which confirmed to Edamura that he needed to keep an eye on the true brains. 

Good thing they were always a few steps ahead. Kudo graciously gives his phone number from his burner phone to the Taiwanese trafficker, as does Edamura, and bids them farewell as they walk out of the store onto the street. Once they are a safe few blocks away from the tailor’s, checked themselves for recording bugs, and determined that the streets are fairly clear, Edamura clutches his chest like an old woman clutching her pearls.

“Jesus, I haven’t done that in so long! See, this is why I retired to do the coffee life.”

“Then why did you unretire, you stupid virgin? Just to help some random woman? Simp.”

“Edamura-san has a big heart. We all remember France, don’t we?” Kudo reminisces as he rummages around for his actual phone inside of Abby’s purse to find the chicken shop he hyped up earlier. Abby crosses her arms and scowls at her “owner”.

“You know, you make a really bad first impression as a slave owner.” She mutters as her heels clack against the concrete sidewalk.

Edamura’s eyes bug out when she calls him out. “What? I didn’t know you were gonna comment on his weight! What else was I supposed to do then? I’m supposed to be playing a ‘bad guy’ as well. You did great on your part too, Abby. Very cute and believable.” Edamura turns to smile at Abby but tilts his head when he sees her slightly turned away from him, not showing her face.

“Thanks, amateur.” Edamura decidedly believes he touched a nerve and drops the conversation from there. They reach the chicken shop and just as the male worker hands them their order, a text from Laurent pops on his phone. He takes a bite of the juicy, crunchy piece of fried chicken in front of him and scrolls to read it.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_Kudo just sent me a photo of his chicken, so I assume first contact went off without a hitch?_

[From: Edamame]

_Yeah, we got in and got him to bite. We have his phone number too on Kudo’s burner._

_One of his bodyguards is really smart though, unlike Xǔ himself. Any info?_

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

 _Oh, that’s probably_ _Zhìhóng Gao. He’s been working with Xǔ for the last 5 years. One of his most efficient men. He’s definitely gonna be suspicious of an event in their city they’ve never heard of._

Ah shit. Edamura completely forgot during the con that he was supposed to keep the entire thing local. Scratching his head, he sends out another text, taking a bit longer than necessary.

[From: Edamame]

_Well, you see… it’s probably not going to be in Taiwan anymore. I mentioned how it’s put together by European people outside of Taiwan and now we’re going to have to find a venue somewhere in Europe or maybe even another continent._

_I apologize for that :(_

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_Edamame, I swear you manage to surprise me time and time again. Good thing I kept off of booking a venue. I had a feeling something like this might occur._

_Well, my little soybean, I guess we’ll have to choose a spot that would be believable. We’ll discuss this when you get back. Stay safe._

Edamura sighs as he places his phone on the table and groans at the slight mistake he made, knowing it’s going to cause him more stress in the future. Abby looks over at him and shrugs as she takes another bite of her deliciously hot chicken.

* * *

Overnight, the team tries to rearrange their plans to accommodate the slip-up Edamura made. He decides to call Xǔ and tell him that they would be going to a gala outside of Europe, his excuse being that the Europeans might get raided by secret police in their own countries and it would be easier to set up private deals outside of the jurisdiction of their law system. He was surprisingly easy to convince and asked for more details over some food. The only problem was finding a country that might be good to use for a gala now.

“South America? Do you want to use Brazil?”

“We don’t have many experienced con-artists in Brazil at the moment. The ones I know would be good are currently spread thin in other countries like Guyana and Venezuela.”

“How about Canada?”

“I might have some colleagues up there in Calgary, let me check real quick…” As Laurent pulls out his phone and dials a number, Edamura turns to Cynthia, who is typing on a computer keyboard quickly.

“Any other places we might be able to bring the con over to?” He asks as he himself tries to plan out the next few weeks. He’s gone through two pieces of lead in his mechanical pencil from writing so many details out.

“I just found the perfect place, actually. I was thinking about Cape Town, South Africa.” 

Edamura tilts his head as he vaguely remembers his visit there a couple of years back and the delicious citrus coffee he tried there. It was also important for another reason, but he couldn’t remember why.

“I believe you and Laurent went there together, too,” Cynthia remarks offhandedly as she scrolls through her latest findings.

When she says that, the memories of Laurent in the grapevine come barreling back into his mind and he has to grip his hands tight to keep from gasping from the whiplash of it all, which causes him to break his current piece of lead. Of fucking course it would have to be there. The place where the blonde idiot and him defiling his innocence became a tradition on these types of trips. He vowed to only go back there by himself and not with the French man and he was keeping it that way, con be damned.

Edamura sets a stubborn pout upon his face. “Nope, not happening. Uh-uh.”

Cynthia raises her eyebrows curiously and looks like she wants to probe further to see why he is having this reaction when Laurent taps his phone to end his call. He has a relaxed grin on his face, but Edamura has been in enough situations with the man to tell that the smile does not have any good news attached to it. At least, for Edamura.

“What’s the news about Canada, Laurent?” Edamura asks with the slightest bit of hope.

“No can do, Edamame. They are in the thicket of their own con and can’t afford to give their time to us as well. Now what was this I heard about Cape Town? I have very, _very_ fond memories of the place.” As Laurent switches his intense gaze to Edamura, the Japanese man can see Cynthia slowly piece why he didn’t want to go back there. He prays she has sympathy for him and won’t go through with it.

“ _Well_ , Laurent, Cape Town is the capital of South Africa and some shady relations with European countries is plausible enough. Plus, we have quite a few retired European con-artists living in that region of Africa since it’s a nice spot to get a vacation home. I’ve contacted some of them already and they are more than willing to come back into the job to fulfill favors to me and Laurent.” Cynthia states with a gaudy smirk on her lips. She’s going through with it, Edamura thinks to himself, and he absolutely loathes her for it. 

Edamura doesn’t want to admit it, but the city is sounding more and more appealing as Cynthia speaks on. He would be more than happy to go back to South Africa and drink more of their coffee and gain some well deserved cash through conning Xǔ. But he is reminded of why he wants to experience it alone when he checks back on Laurent, who is currently smiling and nodding at all the things Cynthia is repeating like an excited puppy.

“I’d love to go back! What more to make the place better than performing a con there on a sex trafficker?” Laurent’s blue eyes grow a shade darker as he wraps an arm around Edamura’s shoulder, grinning quite salaciously at the coffee critic. “Edamura, I think there would be some poetic justice if we go do the con in Cape Town.”

“What poetic justice are you referring to? The one where you took time off for the first time to try and seduce me? I think that would be more ‘triggering’ than ‘poetic’, Laurent.” Edamura gingerly lifts the arm off his shoulder, where it instead wraps around his waist. A warm bubbling sensation begins in his stomach at the affectionate hold, but he ignores it. He turns to the other three con-artists in the room and gives them a questioning glance.

“Are you all fine with Cape Town?” 

Shi-Won and Abby both give him a thumbs-up as Abby curses when the Korean woman places down her cards. “Read them and weep, Abby. Four of a kind, aces.”

Edamura gets up when he hears the call as he looks over at their poker table. He whistles when he sees the hand at play. A nice set of cards greet him, a four of a kind composed of aces, and to top it off is a queen of hearts as the remaining card. He looks over at Abby’s hand and almost bursts out laughing when he finds out its two pairs of nines and fives, with a three as the remaining card. He can see Abby’s irritation at being beaten brutally and hears Kudo congratulating Shi-Won on her overwhelming win.

“Now that you’ve asserted your dominance, are you guys ready to get this city packed up? I plan to leave this town probably in a month with Abby and Kudo, get some good connections with Xǔ in.” 

“I’m going back to London tomorrow. Kawin keeps calling me to show me his artwork and I miss seeing it in person. I definitely need a bit of a break after all this planning. I'm off to sleep then.” Cynthia shrugs on her jacket and begins to walk towards the door.

“I’ll be leaving tomorrow too, Edamame. I still have my diplomacy job to attend to. I’ll be in my room if you want to visit.” Just as Laurent says this and Edamura pretends to hurl, Cynthia turns around and points a finger in the air.

“Oh! I almost forgot. What are we going to do about our client? She’s supposed to do something here, right?”

There is a moment wherein some movies, the record scratches, the music pauses, and the entire scene stops. This is what Edamura is currently feeling. He had completely forgotten about Xiangxiang and how she was going to fit into the plan, but now that they were leaving the country, it would all be done without her role in it. But Edamura was not someone who would go back on his word.

“Yeah, that’s true! She’ll be helping us, she’s coming over this Friday to discuss food options for the gala. We can still have her do that.” He smiles back at Cynthia, his previous anxiety melting away.

“Friday? Edamame, you must really not want me to meet this Xiangxiang! Arranging for them to meet you the day after I leave, I must admit I feel a bit jealous. Who is this beautiful woman who has captivated our young con-artist?” Laurent teases him as he stands behind him, both arms wrapped around Edamura’s frame. The younger man could smell the intoxicating cologne and natural scent of the French man and has to make a conscious effort not to inhale too deeply.

“None of your business, now that we’re going out of the continent. She’ll continue to live free from your predatory ways.” Edamura snaps back at the French/Belgian/asshole-ish man.

Laurent pouts and nuzzles into the younger man’s neck, who yelps at the light kisses the blonde man places on his neck and near his ear. The others in the room ignore the two as Edamura is pulled into the bedroom once more, his lips being taken once more by the alluring white man.

* * *

Edamura wakes up and finds himself snuggled up next to something warm. Something breathing. He turns his head slightly and groans when he catches sight of Laurent sleeping next to him, arms wrapped around him, and spooning his smaller body. He reaches over to push away the older man when he notices that both he and Laurent are shirtless. No way did he…

The previous night comes crashing back to him. After Laurent finished kissing him senseless, the older man washed up and walked back to his bed.

_“Time for bed, Edamame.”_

_“I’d rather pull my eyes out than sleep in the same bed as you. You’re not even wearing any clothes!” Edamura snaps back at the nude man. He had gotten used to seeing the con-artist naked after having spent many nights wrapped up in his sexual escapades. Looking at the excessive cock in front of him still gave him a warm feeling in his gut and he hoped(?) that he would not have to ever take it, lest he perishes from being split open, split apart, torn in half. The list is endless._

_“Don’t be so rude, Edamame! I just want to see your sleeping face again…” Laurent pouts at Edamura as he says this and strolls up to the bed, pushing his boundaries like a persistent cat. Or roach, whichever one was the more disgusting._

_“You were creepy five years ago and you’re still creepy now, old man. I’m going to bed. Get out.” Edamura finishes his statement by pulling the sheets over his head, blocking the sight of the blonde man out of his vision. As they say, out of sight, out of mind._

_Or it would have been if Laurent didn’t decide to wrap himself around the Japanese man in his blanket. The younger man squawks when he feels something large press itself against him, the body behind him settling into the curve of his back. Kisses begin pressing themselves against the sheet onto his head._

_Edamura blushes hard when he realizes that the only thing protecting him from the soft press of Laurent’s lips is the thin bedsheet provided by the hotel. The last thing he remembers before he falls asleep is the blanket coming out from above his head and Laurent smiling down at him, almost lovingly…_

Edamura groans as he turns his body around to fully face the blonde man in front of him. He can’t stand the way his relaxed face makes him look so much more innocent than his shitty personality lets on. He doesn’t like how the man in front of him is so full of confidence that it radiates even when they aren’t conning someone. He can seduce anyone he wants to, so why is he so fixated on a man like Edamura, who only wants to travel the world and have his own coffee shop? He should find someone who can match his incredibly annoying personality and ideals.

He doesn’t mention this as Laurent wakes up and sees Edamura glaring at him, which he decides to respond with a languid kiss to his lips and a whisper of _‘Good morning, mon beau’_. There is no point in stopping him as the older man ruffles his hair and makes him a cup of coffee using his grinder and pour-over cup just the way he likes it. Maybe a slight butterfly goes through his stomach as he receives a warm hug and kiss to the cheek from the gentleman as he brings Cynthia and Laurent to the airport. But that’s it, he’s not in over his head.

The next few days pass without any worry, except for Edamura calling Xiangxiang and updating her on their current relocation. She sounds extremely sad that she won’t be able to be a part of the con just yet until Edamura mentions that she’ll still be able to come over to discuss the food details of the con. She reengages her excitement quite profoundly, so much that a woman right next to her begins fretting over Xiangxiang’s blood pressure. He assumes that other woman to be Niji.

Edamura waits at the dining table going over documents for the plan Friday night when his phone starts ringing. It’s not the sound of a normal call too. Looking down at his phone, he sees a familiar name pop up.

[VIDEO CALL FROM: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

He picks up the call.

“Hello?” He holds the camera near his face and sees Laurent’s staring right back at his, a wink settled into his features.

“Hello there, soybean. I’m just calling to check on you, because if I’m not mistaken…”

‘No, the client is not here yet and you won’t get to meet them. I didn’t think it was possible for you to wake up this early. Isn’t it about 5 AM in Washington, DC?”

“The day starts early for us politicians, my dear Edamame. I am always awake by 4:30 AM on the dot for my daily work.” Before Edamura can elaborate further on the semantics of a diplomat’s work, there’s a call from the phone connected to the hotel’s kitchenette. He pauses the conversation with Laurent before he can ask anything more.

“Hello?” He answers the phone, already guessing who’s here to meet him.

“Hello there, sir. Two women are here to see you. Shall I allow them up to your suite?” Edamura smiles as he hears that Xiangxiang has arrived, as well as Niji.

“That would be amazing, please let them up.” Once he hangs up his phone, he goes back to his seat and unpauses the video on his phone to see Laurent had balanced his phone in a way so he could see him dressing for the day. Very slowly, if he might add, seeing as how the tall man was still putting on his shirt and the younger man could very clearly see the form-fitted underwear the Belgian man was showing off.

“You know, this is why I won’t show you off to the client if you plan on using our video call as your intro as a cam boy.” Edamura snickers as Laurent’s face snaps back to the screen and he can catch a faint blush forming on the white man’s face, contrasting the horny smirk on his lips. 

“Only for you.”

“I have to go now, please don’t call me for the next hour.” Edamura doesn’t allow himself to look at the con-artist’s affronted face as he hangs up the call at the exact moment the doorbell rings. He brushes himself off and goes toward the door before taking a quick breath. One breath, two breaths, then he opens the door.

Xiangxiang and Niji are both standing outside the door, arms full of groceries. Xiangxiang has a wide smile going for her as she bounds into the suite, places the groceries on the table, and does a 360-degree spin around the room. Niji blushes at Edamura and pushes her long hair behind her ear before squeezing past him and walking in.

“Holy. Shit! Oh my god, is this just one room inside of your suite? I can’t believe people actually stay here by themselves! So much space to lounge around!” Xiangxiang does a little jump clap and directs her attention to Niji, who is also standing in the middle of the room in awe. “Niji, can you believe this?”

“Not really, Xiang. People really are living the high life, after all.” Niji says as she turns her attention to Edamura and smiles at him apologetically. “Sorry for bringing over so much food. We brought it so we could cook for you and ask for your opinion!”

Edamura nods and flourishes his hand to the kitchen. “Don’t be sorry, I’m excited to taste your food! The kitchen is all yours.”

Niji nods shyly and begins setting up her own place around the kitchenette. Edamura is about to help her out when a hand tugs on his wrist. He turns towards Xiangxiang and sees her smirking playfully. Her blue eyes are wide with curiosity and intrigue.

“Could you give me a tour of this place? This totally looks like a room I could get lost in.”

Edamura nods at her request, grinning at her enthusiasm. “Sure thing, let me just show Niji where the pans, knives, and cutting boards are.”

“Don’t worry! I found them. Go let her explore or else she’ll be restless all night.” Already tying her hair in a ponytail, Niji waves them off from the kitchen where she looks entirely focused, already slicing into some carrots. 

Edamura nods and begins to show Xiangxiang around the rather large suite, which includes two bathrooms, a dedicated bar area, and a tiny theater room. Fascinated by everything, the umber-skinned woman asks if she can use the restroom once she sees the free toiletries on the counter and Edamura allows her to, letting her know that he’ll be back to get her once he checks in on Niji.

As he walks back to the kitchen area, Edamura sees Niji has stopped prepping the food and started talking on her phone. She seems to be in a video call with someone and her face is getting redder by the second. He’s about to call out to her when he notices his phone is not on the table anymore. Confused, he checks his pocket for his phone when he realizes something very familiar about the phone in Niji’s hand. It has the same exact case as his phone and the voice coming from his phone has an irritatingly similar accent to someone he knows. 

Oh shit.

Edamura’s eyes pop wide open and he dashes toward Niji, who hadn’t noticed him before. She shrieks and throws the phone at him, apologizing over and over in Mandarin. The Japanese man groans exhaustively and looks down at his screen, hoping it isn’t who he thinks it is.

His heart drops when he sees Laurent smirking back up at him, sleepy blue eyes narrowed in a way that can be interpreted as seductive. He has his morning suit on and is running his hands through his hair, trying to keep it in place. His smile on his face, however, seems to be a bit forced, as if he stubbed his toe on something. 

_I hope he did,_ Edamura thinks to himself. The Japanese man glares hard at the screen.

“You fucking ASSHOLE! Didn’t I tell you not to call me? Do you ever listen?”

“I would have, _Edamura_ , but I forgot to mention that I needed to call you about some important documents in buying the Cape Town venue. But it seems I’ve already gotten to meet our client.” 

What? Laurent _never_ calls him by his actual last name, even when they have other guests over. Plus, he almost sounds annoyed when he mentions the client, who he hasn’t even met. Edamura looks up from the phone at Niji, who is blushing wildly, back down to his phone, and back up before he pieces something together. Laurent thinks Niji is Xiangxiang and is angry at her for some unknown reason. Edamura wants to slap his forehead from the misunderstanding but Laurent keeps steamrolling over what he wants to say before he can even formulate a response.

“She is a rather cute woman, kinda charming too. No wonder you kept her a secret from me. Guess I’ll contact you another time for them, Edamame. _Adiós_ [Goodbye] for now!” And just like that, Laurent smiles at him as if nothing ever happened and turns off the call, leaving the two of them standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. 

Niji is the first one to speak up, voice a bit shaky. “I a-apologize, Mr. Edamura! I just saw your phone ringing and I picked it up because I saw the name on the phone was in English and one of your contacts so I was just going to mention how you were away! The man on the phone kept speaking to me though in English, which I can't speak, and then in Mandarin. He called me pretty and a ‘steal’, but his blue eyes were so cold! I tried to explain to him what you were doing but his glare felt like it was going to kill me through the phone, I couldn’t get my words out. It was only when you walked in that he asked me for my name, but you took the phone from me! Who is he?!?”

Edamura sighs and looks down at the phone again, dread building in his gut. Now he has a woman in front of him on the verge of crying, an annoying French asshole who thinks one of the women he’s hosting is the client (which Niji is NOT), and a meeting with Xǔ in three days to fret over. He takes another deep breath and smiles at Niji, whose hands are trembling.

“Don’t worry, Niji,” Edamura says calmly. “He’s someone who’s going to help us out during our mission. He just thinks you’re Xiangxiang since you weren’t able to get a word in. I’ll clear it up with him after you leave. The only way to get through that man’s thick skull is by talking it out face-to-face.”

Niji nods slowly and claps her hands together loudly, stopping them from shaking. She walks over to the vegetables, takes a deep breath, and begins chopping them methodically. After a minute or so, her mood becomes calmer as she preps more food. Edamura is even able to help her out a bit by handing her the correct ingredients before Xiangxiang walks back into the room, a plastic bag bulging with items in her hands. Edamura was wondering where she went off to, but he guessed that she had just been snooping around the other bathroom.

“Niji, look at what I got! This hotel's conditioners are more expensive than a meal at RAW!” Inside her bag is the entire room’s toiletries, including small towels and rolls of toilet paper. Edamura is unsure if she is allowed to take the toilet paper or not, but once he sees that they are the luxury type (colored and scented lavender), he decides that he’ll have to take some for himself. “I’m ready to get this party started! Gimme the cutting board, Niji!”

Xiangxiang puts down her bag and gets behind the counter to start prepping when Edamura hears the front door click from a room key and open once more. He hears someone’s voice come down from the hallway and sighs a breath of relief at who it is. She’ll be able to help him out somewhat with planning food for the con, seeing as how she’ll be serving it.

“-so Makoto, I hope they’re here now. It was so hot earlier when I went on a shopping trip with Abby and Kudo will be here shortly, so I’m available to help out however I can. Leave it to good ol’ Shi-Won!” The Korean woman boasts as she walks down the hall wearing a new scarlet summer dress and holding a box that looks like it’s harboring a fat cake. Edamura walks out and grabs the cake from her hands, bringing it to the table.

“You didn’t have to bring a whole cake! There are only two others with us right now!”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t have nice things, right?” Shi-Won asks as she notices Niji in her peripheral vision. “Oh dear, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Shi-Won Kim.” She waves at her with a waggle of her fingers.

“Shi-Won, this is Niji Ma,” Edamura interrupts as Niji waves her hand and bows her head. Shi-Won smiles back at her gently. “And our client here is-"

“I can introduce myself, don’t worry Edamura!” Xiangxiang's voice rings from behind the counter, bent below trying to look for something, probably an extra cutting board. 

Edamura turns to Shi-Won to see her familiar smile again, but as he looks over at her, the temperature in the room goes icy, despite the heat outside. The atmosphere, which he now can feel pressing on his shoulders, becomes deathly silent. Instead of a smile, he is met with a reaction he never expected. Something entirely unlike someone as composed and professional as she is. 

Shi-Won’s brown eyes, which he had never seen in a way other than closed with a soft grin, are wide open in a stupor with her expression slightly dazed. Her mouth hangs slightly agape and, from the looks of it, her balance is unsteady as she looks like she’s one second away from either being sick or having a mental breakdown. Foreign tears begin to escape her eyes and Edamura knows then that something is very, very wrong. He begins to rush towards Shi-Won to ask her what’s the issue but before he can take a single step, Xiangxiang pushes herself up to lean on the counter and happily begins her introduction.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Xiangxiang Guāng.”

Shi-Won then chokes out a single word with a horrified sob that only Edamura is able to make out. One that stops the movement in his limbs and his blood altogether. One that causes the cold shivers in his head to vibrate violently, nonstop. One that should be impossible to even utter because that woman is long dead.

“ _D-Dorothy…_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone: " _Damn, can't wait for Dorothy to meet Laurent!_ "
> 
> Shi-Won in the sidelines, who even states in the series that Dorothy was almost like a daughter to her: 👁💧👄💧👁 
> 
> YES, IT HAS BEEN DONE. DOROTHY HAS BEEN FOUND. SHIT WILL GET S P I C Y.
> 
> Shi-Won is CRIMINALLY underrepresented in the show and I am going to get that character development flowing FAST for this woman. She threw a whole ass wrench in this story and I am here for it. 
> 
> Xǔ is an interesting character, alright. He was a bitch to write for and the main reason why this fic took a month to upload because I could NOT get out his character. I guess you can describe him as immorally naive. Does bad shit, but has a TON of faith in bad people who also do bad shit. Adding in the smart bodyguard will help with the naivety, hopefully.
> 
> Plus, Niji is now Xiangxiang in Laurent's eyes. And boy, is he PISSED at how beautiful she looks. I imagine she looks like a coffee-shop barista version of actress Annie Chen. Jealous little Belgian boy, much?
> 
> If you liked this chapter, please comment about it (or comment your shame at me for prolonging the inevitable(?) 😉) and leave a kudos on the story! Remember, 200 kudos and you get a fic Laurent's POV on the texts and the sexy scene between Chapters 2 and 3!
> 
> Fic Related Notes:
> 
>  **Istanbul** : I chose Turkish coffee as the brew he drinks because I am reading an article on how usually Turkish coffee is almost chewable with how thick and dense the drink is and how it has thick foam on top of the drink. I find it a hilarious image of Edamura just chewing some milky coffee early in the morning, like how he was chewing the boba balls in Singapore, and a foam mustache. But for real, Turkish coffee has a strong flavor profile, almost entirely bitter if no milk added, and a nutty taste to it too.
> 
> The nickname "pay-per-view" refers to boxing matches being primarily marketed as Pay Per View, or buying the right to watch an event via private telecast. Essentially, Abby's making fun of bean boy's hickeys.
> 
> RAW is an expensive restaurant located in Zhongshan District, Taipei City. The price range of this place goes from NT $810-$3000, or $30-$100 USD. Pretty pricey food. And French :O


	4. CASE 5_4: Where Have You Bean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm back!
> 
> So, here's the rundown. 
> 
> November - Wrote the first half of the chapter, writer's block  
> December - Got COVID (family member in the house is an ICU nurse and the influx of holiday patients made it easier to catch it), had to be admitted to hospital  
> January - Recovered mid-January, writer's block and school restarting  
> February - Rewrote the entire chapter because EW YUCKY WHAT WAS I THINKING and started on the next two!
> 
> I'll try to update this every few weeks or so, maybe every week if I can afford to! Please enjoy the chaos that's about to ensue 💀
> 
> CW: Mild violence
> 
> Edit: Changed title to better reflect case names from Great Pretender (from country to city)

He can taste the mint mouthwash he used an hour ago again. 

He can smell the scent of burning ginger again. 

His vision is coming back into focus on the countertop full of vegetables. 

He can even flex his fingers now after the treacherously long seconds they were frozen. His four senses seem to still be functional, yet...

The only thing that hasn’t come back is sound.

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the corner of the room is muffled and the cold it brings only helps to spread the icy sensation in his throat, his lungs, and his diaphragm. He can barely make out Niji frantically trying to calm down Shi-Won, who is sobbing against the wall. With despair or overwhelmed with joy, Edamura cannot for the life of himself care. All that is ringing in his ears is the sound of someone’s name. Xiangxiang- _no, Dorothy’s name._

The woman who is standing at the countertop, her smile slightly diminished and confused at the Korean woman’s theatrics. In her perspective, it could be seen as dramatic, almost pitiful sobbing, since she knew no context about it. _As if she knew no context about it._

The fist that Edamura didn’t know he was making lifts above his head and smashes down into the table. The sound barely breaks past Shi-Won’s sobs but Niji and Xiang-Dorothy (which he now decides to call her) both whip their heads to the sound of the next loudest noise. 

He can feel the pain from the softer part of his hand start to travel up his arm but Edamura does not care. It feels like he’s floating across the ground with the way he approaches Xiang-Dorothy, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her against the refrigerator. Xiang-Dorothy’s face is contorted now in panic and terror, but does Edamura give _one shit_ about that? Hell no.

“ _You… you ruined my LIIIIIIIFE!_ ” Edamura cannot hear his own voice but he can feel the destruction of his vocal cords as he bellows out at the woman pinned to the cold door. “ _You think this is a goddamn joke? Huh? You made my life a living HELL for the past decade. You “die” and suddenly everyone has to save you. But where does that leave me and my mom? She also DIED and my dad wasn’t there to comfort her because he had to avenge YOU! Someone who he didn’t even know was ALIVE! I busted my ass trying to live life quietly meanwhile and all it got me was rejection and bias against something I had no say in. And here you are alive again, asking us to con someone for you. Want to relive the good old days? You think I’m a fucking IDIOT!?_ ” The same fist he had been clenching slams into the metal refrigerator, making Xiang-Dorothy flinch and scream out something unintelligible, tears now streaming down her cheeks. 

Edamura does not know where this rage is coming from, but he knows it has been a long time coming. Something bubbling, cooking under his snarky facade and growing with each hangout with Abby, every wine gossip with Cynthia, every text from Kudo, every shopping trip with Shi-Won, all the trips with _Laurent_. The thought of the French fool has him barreling through another screamfest.

“ _I bet you and Laurent are both making each other very happy while I get sidelined as the fucking side hoe of this entire GROUP! Are you trying to get me to fucking lose my marbles or is it “torment the poor little virgin con-artist day”? I bet you’ve had this planned for ages, waiting for me to get all comfortable with everyone before dropping this bomb on me. I’ve done unimaginable things that haunt me to this day. I can’t undo the sins I have committed, all because of your selfish actions. I hate you, I hate you, I hate YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!!! AHHHHHHHH!!!_ ” The fist that Edamura has been abusing raises to the air to once again punch the refrigerator with his roars, but is stopped seconds before by a firm hand. He is frazzled for a moment before he is flung back out of the chokehold he had been restricting Xiang-Dorothy in. 

“EDAMURA-SAN! What the actual fuck has gotten into you!” The Japanese man hears Kudo yell as the older man pulls him by his hair over to the couch. He doesn’t feel the pain in his scalp and uses that to rip himself out of the handhold that Kudo is using to drag him back. A snarl escapes the feral con-artist.

“ _Don’t fuck with me, old geezer. You did shit for my dad too. I bet you know who the fuck that is on the refrigerator, you traitor!_ ” 

Kudo, who had been staring at Edamura with unmasked disgust now tilts his head confusedly, staring behind at the dark-skinned woman who is massaging her throat and shivering uncontrollably, eyes flickering back between Edamura and a quickly approaching Shi-Won. The apprehension and fear on her face are palpable now that she has been assaulted and only heightens when she is pulled into a tight hug by the bustier woman, soothing circles being rubbed into her back. Niji is also looking at Edamura now with caution, shrinking back when his hardened gaze hits her.

“No, I don’t know either of these women! All I saw and heard when I came into your room was screaming and you trying to choke out the black girl at the refrigerator! My boy, I haven’t seen you this angry since Shanghai.” 

At the word “Shanghai”, Edamura lets out a terrible laugh, grating to the ears like a nail to a chalkboard. “HA! Don’t remind me of that bullshit con. The worst time of my life. But this situation might beat it by a long shot. You wanna know who that is on the floor? It’s _Dorothy_.” 

Kudo’s eyes widen when he hears the familiar name and he puts his hand to his mouth, then one on Edamura’s shoulder to steady himself. The older gentleman had been on the tail-end of many nights where he had to comfort the younger con-artist whenever his many drinks led him to rant and despondent sobbing at the things he’s had to do over the years. The horrible nightmares that Kudo would hear from one room over and wish that he could erase the memories from the young man. It was no wonder that Edamura acted like that when coming into contact with someone who should be dead, was the catalyst for trashing his entire future, and the previous lover of his complicated relationship with a certain Belgian man. 

But she was alive? How?

“Edamura, take a few breaths. You need to calm down.” Kudo’s eyes scan the room before he focuses on Niji. “Ma’am!”

Niji, who for the life of her can not process what is happening tonight, freezes up at the calling. “Y-Yes? Wh-What I do?” She responded shakily in choppy English. 

She does not speak very good English and hopes this man would not give her instructions to help Mr. Edamura, who seems to be very conflicted at the moment as he stumbles backward onto the couch. He had also choked out her friend and did not want to be on the receiving end of one of those grabs.

“Please help Edamura-san calm down. I think he needs someone to talk to him at the moment and I might not be the one to help with that. He needs someone who is not tied to all this.” Kudo calmly said to her, hoping he got the message across.

All Niji can make out are the words “please help”, “calm”, and “talk”, so she nods and slowly makes her way over to Edamura, who has his hands covering his face. She gingerly sat down next to him.

“Mr. Edamura, are you alright? I, ah-um, well, I saw you with Xiangxiang and I just wanted to make sure you don’t hurt yourself anymore. You hit your hand a lot on the door.” Niji slowly says to the unresponsive man. She looks down at Edamura’s hand and sees it slightly swelling up and bleeding lightly with splinters stuck in the skin. She immediately looks to Kudo with a wide glance.

“Aid! First aid! Need it, him!” She begins pointing at Edamura, where Kudo notices his hand and goes to look for supplies to help him. Once Kudo finds them, he arrives back to see Niji holding a shaken-looking Edamura, whom he guesses had recovered enough to handle someone holding him. Xiang-Dorothy and Shi-Won are both at the table, with Xiang-Dorothy glancing back at Edamura with a worried glance. Her white hair is slightly ruffled and her eyes, usually dark blue with excitement, have dimmed with the darker atmosphere. 

Kudo and Niji set to work fixing up Edamura’s hand. The room is deathly silent aside from Shi-Won’s ugly sobbing at the table. After his hand had been wrapped and iced accordingly, Xiang-Dorothy clears her throat.

“So, I’m guessing you knew me before the amnesia?” 

Edamura’s head snaps up at her and scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Excuse me, did you say amnesia? Or am I in a cliche movie? Please tell me you also developed a superpower you never knew existed while under amnesia.” 

Shi-Won has stopped crying by now and has grown more serious, her hands gripping each other tightly and her red eyes glancing at Xiang-Dorothy and Niji. “I swear, Edamame, this is not a joke.”

Edamura gives the older woman a disbelieving glance, motioning around the room. "Oh, really? Maybe, just _maybe_ I'll believe that, but you know what is a joke? Me believing that this shit isn’t planned. I go to Taiwan, Dorothy appears out of nowhere as the lone foreigner living with Taiwanese parents, asks me to go bust a criminal, and all the meanwhile I am at the center of this mess. Please tell me, Shi-Won, how this isn’t a fucking joke?” Edamura responds as bitterly as possible, not choosing to respect anything that may be evidence that this is yet another con.

“This is not a joke because if this was a con and Dorothy was involved, I’m going to the ends of the Earth to find the **motherfucker** who kept my daughter away from me for this long. The world doesn’t goddamn revolve around you and your shit luck, kid.” 

Edamura sits shocked for a brief moment at Shi-Won’s cold tone, her jarring words cutting deep into his original sass. He doesn’t let that assuage his anger; if anything it makes him more frustrated because his ‘shit luck’ keeps putting him in these situations. Other people’s situations he doesn’t need to care for, like an old comrade being alive again. If he’s being involved in something big again, he’s going to fucking complain about it.

"Don't act like I'm selfish for having been forcibly involved in your shitty 'drama'. You're just as much of a selfish prick as Laurent and Ozaki for being compliant about shoving me into your goddamn world. So _don't_ try to talk to me about selfishness or luck."

Shi-Won stays silent before sighing once more and cracking her neck into place before continuing, more relaxed in her speech. 

“I'm sorry, Edamura. I’m still processing Dorothy being alive because holy _shit_ , what a day. I guess you should expect surprises like this to occur in this field of work, but at my age, shit like this can kill a lesser bitch.” She shakes her head at her words and lets out a humorless laugh, sizing up Xiang-Dorothy. “But damn, Dorothy, amnesia? I spent ages trying to find you and the entire reason was because of amnesia? Where have you been?”

Xiang-Dorothy, who has been silent for most of this, glances back up at Shi-Won with a guarded look in her eyes. “I don’t know who that is but I am not her anymore. I was found on a beach on Gueishan Island ten years ago by a restaurant owner and his wife. They took me in and I haven’t been contacted by anyone from my past since, especially because I didn’t know what I did before. Although I am getting a small feeling from what Mr. Edamura has said to be true....”

Shi-Won glares at her hard, trying to look for any hints of a lie. “Then why do you still have your ring on your hand? Laurent said that was the only thing he was able to recover from the boat.”

Edamura’s head flips back from whiplash at trying to look at her ring. No wonder it looked so familiar! “Yeah, you are definitely bullshitting us. I knew I remembered it back at the cafe! Why the fuck do you have the ring? He told us he threw it into the ocean.”

“I got this from my papa! He gutted it from a fish 3 years ago, I swear this is just a really, really big coincidence! When he gave it to me, it still had some fish guts on it!” Xiang-Dorothy starts waving her hands innocently. “B-But when he did give it to me, my head hurt and I started thinking back to my crazy dreams.”

“Dreams?” Edamura and Shi-Won both snap their heads at her, a glint of a backstory shining through.

“Yeah, really weird events. Like how I was the co-owner of an Italian football team, selling pearls in Australia, how I was an African princess in Japan-”

Shi-Won cuts off the thoughtful woman. “Dorothy! That was all of our previous cons we did together! When we conned Marino of his illegal gambling winnings, getting Taylor to expose his gem stores, our gig in Shanghai with-” 

At this moment, Shi-Won’s eyes turn glassy and she lets out an angered huff, tears quickly falling down her face. “That’s where we lost you, Dorothy. That’s where your memories may have ended.”

Edamura decides to speak up again. “But it still seems extremely convenient of you to be positioned here in the city, one store over from my recommended coffee shop. I wonder why…”

Everyone comes to the same conclusion at that moment. Someone is puppeteering from the shadows all the events that are occurring. Shi-Won grinds her teeth, Edamura punches the upholstery, Kudo glares at the amnesiac woman, and Xiang-Dorothy stares at the floor in shock and horror at the thought of someone toying with her life.

“Um, Xiangxiang, please stop this prank right now. Y-You’re scaring me with how real this sounds.” Niji’s timid voice cuts through the tension as everyone in the room brings their attention to the one unknown factor of this entire scheme if there was one. “Please, let’s just go back to the neighborhood.”

Xiang-Dorothy spares a glance at Niji with a terrified face and looks her right in her tearful eyes. “I’m sorry, Niji, I’m not pranking anyone. These people… they know me. They know my dreams. They called me a name that, in all honesty, doesn’t sound unfamiliar. I’m so, SO very scared right now, but I have to stay. I have to know more. Like, for instance, who is this ‘Laurent’ that took my ring in the first place? That name sounds so familiar...”

Edamura’s heart seized up, his eyes widening at this information. Did she really not remember Laurent? Her ex-fiance? He finds that a bit hard to believe. 

Before Edamura can question her, Shi-Won is on it immediately. “Honey, you don’t remember your own fiance? You recruited him yourself back in Paris after we conned Hugo.” 

Xiang-Dorothy’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and she flies back in her chair, teetering backward on the back two feet. She shakes her head, white hair flitting around as she shakes her head. “W-Wait, hold on just one moment! I have a fiance?!”

“Had,” Shi-Won says with a sad smile. “He seems to have gotten over you a few years ago when we ‘avenged’ your death after our job in Shanghai. He’s moved on, Dorothy.”

Xiang-Dorothy stays still for one moment, hands gripping the table harshly. Edamura could see the pain in her eyes at something she can’t even recall. He would have expected her to have passed out from the information overload by now, but it seems like she’s handling the news better than most doctors would suggest. He can’t imagine the thought of having to realize that her entire previous life was something less than 1% of the world have ever imagined doing and how it had all been dashed from her.

Finally, Xiang-Dorothy holds her head in her hands and lets out a soft mutter. Edamura could barely catch it being so far down the table but he understood the gist of it.

“Is he happier now?”

Shi-Won stifles a small chuckle and turns her attention to the end of the table. 

“Well, you can say he has his eyes on another person at the moment…” 

Edamura then realizes her attention is on him and he blushes wildly. Him?! Even if this bastard Belgian was attracted to him, it was only physically! He may not have been the most sought out teen in his high school, but he knew that he can be charming and courteous when respected (which Laurent never seems to do, only furthering his abuse towards him) and his face wasn’t _terrible_ , per say. He wouldn’t want the French fuck anyhow, no matter how many roses and kisses he was given. There was too much baggage at the moment and unsaid things that may have been directed at Xiang-Dorothy.

Which reminds him…

“Dorothy, uh… wait, which do you prefer? Xiangxiang or Dorothy?” 

“Hmm?” Xiang-Dorothy stares back at Edamura with a slightly perplexed stare and holds her chin in her palm, contemplating deeply. “Well, Dorothy was in the past and, from your heated reaction, she was a whole BITCH so, heh, I guess you can call me Xiangxiang!”

Edamura rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Y-Yeah, I guess you can say that. That’s actually what I wanted to talk about. So… I am extremely sorry!” Standing up from his chair abruptly, Edamura bows low to Xiang-Dorothy and keeps his head down, arms stiff at his side.

“I apologize for assaulting you! I should never have done that, regardless of how angry I was! It is never right to resort to violence and I made rash decisions because of my emotions. I cannot ask you enough for your forgiveness because what had happened in the past is in the past and you can’t remember anything! I feel so bad-”

“Edamura, stop there.” Xiang-Dorothy’s voice rings out through his rushed apology and Edamura stops. “I think that I need a bit more context of your life story before I can fully ‘allow myself’ to forgive you for asphyxiating me or not. There’s a whole cake here and a ton of gossip to spread! Oh my god, there are so many questions I have now! Was I glamorous? Have I ever jumped out of a plane? Where did I go when I wanted a bit of a getaway?”

“Most definitely, three times in the United States and twice in Switzerland, and French Polynesia.” 

Xiang-Dorothy begins clapping her hands in excitement at Shi-Won’s quick response and all the tension in the room fades away, giving way to a new segment of the evening. The one where Shi-Won began talking about how she first met Dorothy and how she came to become a con-woman, Edamura and his backstory, and Niji meeting Xiangxiang for the first time. All the while, Kudo takes the reins on the cooking and actually comes up with a pretty decent Taiwanese stir-fry and traditional Japanese beef stew with rice.

“And Dorothy was one of the prettiest girls I saw on the road, all smiles and energy with her routine that I was really impressed with the method that she used to try and steal my wallet! After I thoroughly beat her up, she became one of my helpers and stayed with me all the way through.” Shi-Won remarks as she takes a bite of her melon cake.

“So, my mom died. I tried to find work afterward in her honor but who would want to hire someone whose father had trafficked kids? ‘Like father, like son’, they would say. I’m ashamed to say they proved right in the end.” Edamura sighs out as he eats the stir-fry, trying not to make eye contact with anyone in the room.

“So, I met Xiangxiang right when my mother was starting to lose faith in the shop and she came right in and began decorating the place! I remember the look on my mama’s face when Xiangxiang slammed a mallet through the counter, she was about to beat her ass all the way across Taipei!” Niji giggles out tipsily as she nibbles into her 3rd cake slice and 4th glass of wine.

All the while, Edamura notices that Xiang-Dorothy has not said a word. Sure, she has laughed here and there and pouted at some of the comments, but overall she was just absorbing the information. Allowing others to tell her own life because she was still clueless about her true identity. It must have been something that wasn’t normal because Niji suddenly put a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“Xiangxianggggg, why are you not talking?? I’m trying to tell them about the time you tried to act like a foreigner to that one small crush of mine and he ended up referring you to a voicing agency! You need to do the accent!” Niji started nuzzling into Xiang-Dorothy’s shoulder and murmuring the word “accent” over and over. 

Xiang-Dorothy smiled and pats her friend’s hair. “Okay, Niji! I’ll do it!” 

And even though she did an incredible Irish accent, Edamura could see the internal struggle to stop herself from crying right then and there. He couldn’t know why, but he guessed it right an hour later.

After Niji passes out from her drinking and was burrito-wrapped into a blanket and shipped to a spare bedroom, Xiang-Dorothy lays back on the living room couch. Edamura could see that her face had dropped from being incessantly happy to increasingly morose, tears flowing down her cheeks. He knew he couldn’t comfort her in any way and didn’t know how to. He’d never seen someone so angry at the wall, looking like she wished it would disintegrate.

“Mr. Edamura.” 

Edamura jumped at her sudden exclamation of his name. He sat down on the couch next to her, grabbing his wine glass carefully. 

“...yes, Xiangxiang?”

“You should have done more than throw me against the refrigerator. I certainly would have pulled a knife from the counter in your situation, probably would make them even more scared.” H-Huh? 

“W-Why, Xiangxiang?” Edamura asks as he sips from his glass, trying to distract himself from the increasingly moody woman.

Xiang-Dorothy turns to give him one of her big grins, all forced and twisted with running makeup and tear tracks. “Because apparently, I used to be a terrible person. I conned people, I forced their money into my hands and ran with it. And then I met someone, made them like me. I was about to marry them. But then, then I apparently ‘died’. I died and ended up somewhere else, somewhere far away from all the action. I was happy because I used to be content with the fact that even if I never found out about my old life, I had my mama and papa to work with. We were simple. Did that mean my past world stopped?”

A sob tears through Xiang-Dorothy and she grips her body in a tight hold as if asking for someone to hug her newfound pain away. “NO! It-It didn’t. Because you were still a bystander in it. You had no control over what would happen. And it cost you so much. Your father, your mother, your work, your morals. Everything, all for me. So selfish for someone who can’t even recall the face of her past fiance, ha!”

Edamura couldn’t even come to retaliate against her claims. She did ruin his life, involuntarily. Her death made everyone bloodthirsty for revenge that they forgot about the ones who would be affected in the aftermath. If she hadn’t been caught and killed, Edamura may have become something else, maybe would have had his own coffee shop to look over.

Wiping her face, she continues on her rant. “And now that I am alive, does that mean what you did is essentially worthless? Me living means you went through the worst possible hell all for my memory when I am still here. I mean, I don’t want to die AGAIN from what I’m saying, but look at us!” She gestures to the entire room and its grandeur, which is dampened by the gasping sobs escaping the poor woman in front of him. “You’re back here, conning against your will, doing this for me! Why! WHAT’S SO SPECIAL ABOUT ME?!” She begins laughing into the air, hoping for something spiritual to rain light on the situation and respond.

Nothing does.

Edamura stays silent a bit longer before fiddling with his thumbs. He needs to confirm something before anything more happens.

“Xiangxiang, I’m sorry for what happened tonight. I don’t think I can forgive Dorothy. I will probably never forgive Dorothy. However, I can begin to empathize with you, Xiangxiang. I really don’t want to sound rude with this, but I don’t trust you. At all. I have been tricked before. Hurt a lot by the man who was your previous fiance. He had me do terrible things I’d rather forget forever. I don’t know who put us together, but they have a final purpose for this. And I will tell you now, Xiangxiang, that if those things hurt you, I will feel bad. But if they happen to Dorothy... I won’t feel bad. Please tell me right now, Xiangxiang, are you conning me?”

Xiang-Dorothy looks him right in the eyes as she responds, eyes glimmering with leftover tears and determination. “No. I swear I am not doing anything to hurt you. And I’m sorry that this man made you do such terrible acts.”

Edamura sighs in relief at the genuine answer and nods once as he snorts into the air as he pulls out his phone. “You asked for a photo of him, yes? Here’s one.” 

He decides to show her a photo of Laurent posing with Edamura in front of a church in Barcelona, one where the both of them are showing off their best personalities (meaning, Laurent was being tripped by Edamura down the cathedral steps and the Japanese man almost managed to succeed. The person taking the photo started laughing at the Belgian man skipping around the smaller man’s flailing leg soon afterward.). It was one of his favorite memories, especially because of the… activities that followed afterward. He had purple marks on his thighs for _weeks_ after that.

“This is him. Sir Laurent Thierry the asshole.” Xiang-Dorothy takes a long gaze at the photo, zooming in onto the blonde man who has one of his infuriating smirks on his face despite his near faceplant. She stares harder at the photo before nodding and handing his phone back.

“You two are a cute couple.” 

Sadly, Edamura had decided to take a long swig of wine from his glass at that very moment. His spit take fills the air with alcohol as he begins to cough and dribble liquid onto the couch. Thankfully it wasn’t a white couch.

Xiang-Dorothy’s eyes widen and her face takes on a mischievous grin. “Ohoho, are you not a couple? Well, I wouldn’t blame you. If this man is my ex and the guy who recruited you, not gonna lie, he’s more than an asshole. Kinda obsessed with Dorothy, kinda annoying always calling you ‘Edamame’, kinda a dick for never involving you in anything.”

Edamura, who by now has stopped coughing, throws his hands up to the air and groans out happily. “Thank you! He’s nothing but a pain!”

“Then why haven’t you cut him out?”

“You think I haven’t tried? He’s persistent and has connections to me like the group that I am not willing to get rid of just yet. He’ll always be around as long as I keep associated with these conmen and conwomen.” Because most of them aren’t manipulative shitty French men.

“And your “complicated relationship”, as Shi-Won put it so nice to me?” Edamura glared at Xiang-Dorothy’s cheeky tone, huffing and crossing his arms.

“W-We just, y’know, hang out on trips and do things.”

“ _Things_ , huh?” 

Edamura blushes hard. “Yes, _things_.”

“Where do you do these sort of _things_ , Mr. Edamura?’

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Xiangxiang? That’s my personal business with Laurent.”

Xiang-Dorothy smirks and makes a peace sign at an increasingly flustered Edamura while sticking out her tongue. “Alright, then. One more question!”

“Shoot.”

“Should I tell Laurent?”

“Tell him what?”

“That I’m alive.”

“ **No**.”

The sudden shift in the room’s atmosphere could be felt by the both of them when Shi-Won’s voice cut through their banter. Her arms were crossed across her large chest and she was standing near the door to the bathroom. Her look of disapproval was open for all to see.

“Let me tell you why it’s bad to let Laurent know you are alive. I’ve known him for quite a long time. I know this boy. And he fell OFF when you died. Drinking every day hoping you would return, dragging his ass to random places to hook up with a woman to fill the void in his heart. If he found you to be ALIVE after all this, do you know what would happen? He’d probably snap, mentally. A whole decade of his life wasted because he had to avenge his dead fiance? But news flash, Dorothy: You aren’t dead. And he’ll feel that deep in his gut. Probably to the point of insanity this time.”

“How do you know this, Shi-Won?” Edamura asks the intimidating woman slowly, not really believing her.

“Because I’ve seen this man talk to his reflection in his room. Except it wasn’t himself he was talking to. He was saying Dorothy’s name.” Both Xiang-Dorothy and Edamura glance at each other with surprised fear in their eyes, how her description of Laurent being “kinda obsessed” is something that may have been an understatement.

Xiang-Dorothy made an X with her arms and recreates an incorrect noise. “Yep, let’s definitely not tell him.”

Edamura leans back in his chair. “But he knows who Xiangxiang is. Or at least, who he suspects Xiangxiang is. Niji answered the phone while she was cooking and made Laurent assume that she was Xiangxiang.”

“Perfect! Then we’ll use her as Xiangxiang!”

Both Edamura and Xiang-Dorothy snap their heads to stare confusedly at the elated Korean woman. “What?”

“We’ll use Niji as a placeholder for Xiangxiang! Dorothy wouldn’t ever have to meet him as she can just stay hidden. She probably wouldn’t even have to leave the country to do anything!” 

Edamura groans into his hand. Another thing he has to account for now? It made perfect sense though and helped give a buffer for Laurent’s nosy investigations. Since he “met” Xiangxiang now, he wouldn’t feel as compelled to go into her history files as heavily. But now he’d have to keep in the back of his mind that Niji is Xiangxiang around everyone and to update the girl on their plans.

“Are you sure this will be alright? You know how in-depth he goes for his cons.”

Shi-Won put a finger to her face. “I’ll ask one of my contacts to build a network involved with this Niji girl as Xiangxiang. Dorothy, did you hold any social media networks over the past decade?”

“Nope! No photos of myself online either because my parents were very strict about it, seeing as how I’m not really Taiwanese and people might commit crimes against us because of me in these parts.”

“Perfect, we’ll just use that and include some photos of Niji on there. From there, we will be able to direct all of Laurent’s searches to that specific profile. I’m going to go to sleep now. Kudo left a while ago and I envy the man for getting to sleep easier than me. Oh, Dorothy…” Shi-Won grabs the black woman once more and hugs her close, the air sobering at the intimate gesture. She pulls herself away from the hug, kisses the woman on the forehead, and waves at the two before popping out of the room.

The air becomes awkward again as it is now just the two of them sitting in a filthy living room. 

Xiang-Dorothy clears her throat. “S-So, um, it’s late at night and Niji is passed out in a room here. Is it fine if I stay here for the night?”

Edamura nods once, his politeness shining through. “Of course! Stay here until the morning if you need to.” 

The both of them don’t know what to do to say goodnight, so Edamura extends a stiff arm to the ex-con artist. The white-haired woman takes one surprising look at the hand before busting out laughing. “Oh, m-my god! This is such a mess, I can’t shake your hand after all this, Mr. Edamura.” And with that, she pulls the man into a tight hug.

His brain is telling him to push her away, to get away from this woman, and to run off until he’s not close to her ever again, but he can’t do it. He can feel through the hug how she periodically squeezes tighter as if hoping he would stay if she kept up the pressure. He reluctantly puts his arms around her shoulder and sighs into her hair. “I’m sorry that this happened to you.”

“I’m sorry that I happened to you.”

With that, Edamura waves off Xiang-Dorothy to her room and goes off to his room. He changes his clothes and sets himself up to fall deep into sleep. Except…

He just can’t sleep. Too many things are racing through his mind, all these different plots and circumstances that make no sense. He knows from his intuition that someone is playing him. Someone who he knows is making sure all of these events occurs for some reason. But why always with him? The world doesn’t revolve around Edamura, not by a long shot. But it always seems like he orbits this world of deceit quite often, the unobstructed bright moon to lies and thievery. 

Ideas start formulating in his head who might be the perpetrator of this con. Who could have brought him here? For what purpose? It could be anyone in Team Confidence.

With that uneasy thought, he bundles a bunch of blankets over his head and is sent off to a dreamless sleep.

* * *

“Wow, Sasaki, you’ve got one fucking swing!”

The meetings with Xǔ are going spectacularly if Edamura has anything to say about it. He’s kept up with the man’s boisterous attitude and even gotten praised for some of his golf swings despite rarely ever going out to golf. Abby was sitting in the cabby in a skimpy golfing outfit on her phone, looking more bored by the second every time she isn’t able to drive them somewhere (and Edamura had to stop her from taking a detour through the rough and off the cliffside three too many times). Kudo was currently mooching up to Zhìhóng Gao, the bodyguard, as the man’s impassive face was not cracking one bit despite the old man jokes Kudo keeps making at him. 

They’ve been able to meet up thrice with the boba trafficker over the month and each time, Xǔ just seemed to get more and more comfortable. It didn’t seem like it at first, but the man was starved for some friends. He had business contacts and dealers to oversee and that didn’t leave much room for him to interact normally with fellow criminals his age. It would be a bit sad if it wasn’t for the fact that his morals reserved for criminals were near nonexistent for the people he sold. 

The older Taiwanese man shoves his beer can at Zhìhóng and rolls up his sleeves. “Bet $50 I can get this on par.”

Edamura was never one for gambling, but this one was too good to pass up. “Okay. $200 for a birdie and $500 for an eagle.” 

Xǔ whistles low and lets a feral grin cross his face. “I’ll keep you to that on your turn, too, then.” And then he swung.

After the long 18 holes, Edamura is up by $250 and Xǔ was grumbling to himself, but not too mad at the day. Before they left, Xǔ pulled Edamura over to the side.

“Okay, so we’re going to Cape Town, South Africa? Sounds good. My bodyguard seems to believe the entire thing is pretty legit from our sources, so we’ll go down there and fuck shit up. Got it, Sasaki? We’re gonna make these Euros believe they made the wrong assumptions about our countries.”

Edamura gives the man his own sinister grin and slaps Xǔ on the back. “I’m with you on that. I’m ready to do business and do it right.”

Xǔ nods and walks up to Abby, hugging her tightly. “Bye, bye, Abby! I hope to see you in Cape Town in a week. You’re such a good girl!” 

Abby smiles up at him when he yells this and lets out a small squeal of happiness. “Yay! I can’t wait! See you then, Mr. Xu!” And when she lets go of the man, Edamura could make out the imperceivable vein at the base of her neck twitch uncontrollably, probably from bloodlust. Ah, she’s gonna go off in the car later.

Kudo and the bodyguard are still playing their _manzai_ bit, with Kudo being the _boke_ and Zhìhóng being the _tsukkomi_. Edamura almost lets out a laugh at Kudo’s purposeful idiocy as he has never seen the man act so foolishly in his entire time knowing him. Zhìhóng seems to be keeping his answers brief, but the flash of a smile underlies his professionalism. 

The two of them are bad people, Edamura has to remind himself. The smiles and jokes being played are usually not meant for normal people, only others who ruin other people’s lives. It only becomes more palatable when as they are leaving, Xǔ barks out a laugh.

“Shit, Sasaki, you see those ball women over there? Oh man, I’m only here to play some golf but I’d definitely catch them if I had time. Shit, they’d be such good sex slaves…”

“Sir, would you like me to contact someone to apprehend them? I can make it work.” 

Edamura’s blood runs cold at the two’s casual conversation of kidnapping and selling these innocent bystanders. They’ve probably done it in the past too when Edamura wasn’t around to play around on the green. His eyes flash slightly before he gets back into a groove.

“I can see it, definitely! Her thighs look like they can crush my head, too.” As the five of them walk off to their respective cars, Edamura sends a look to Kudo and Abby and while they don’t react outwardly, they understand. The game is on.

All three of the con-artists are driving back in the same car to the hotel when Edamura gets a text from Laurent. He opens it.

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_Edamame, call me in a secure location when you are available._

Edamura dialed the number after confirming with Kudo and Abby of no audio bugs in the car and was immediately greeted by an annoying coo of excitement.

“Aw, Edamame, did you miss me that much? You called so quickly.”

“You told me to call you in a secure location. I’m doing just that, you asshole.” 

“Oh, but you just know how much I love the build-up whenever you send me back one of your cute texts. It leaves me _aching_ for more.” Ignoring the increasingly suggestive comments from the Belgian bitch, Edamura is able to not blush and keep himself in con mode.

“My head is _aching_ because you keep talking nonsense and not telling me why you needed to call. I just got done with my golf session with Xǔ. We’re heading into phase two of the con now.”

Edamura can’t see but he can hear movement which may be Laurent nodding his head up and down. “Good, good. I came to call about just that. I’ve sent you the reservations for the hotel rooms and the blueprints of the building we’ll be hosting the gala in. Oh, and I got a very special room for the two of you.”

“The two of you? Who?” Edamura asks distractedly as he passes by a rice paddy. He can see the people planting the rice in the ground for autumn. 

“Why, you and Xiangxiang, of course.”

The world stops for a moment in Edamura’s eyes. He suddenly sits straight up and yells in the car, alerting both Kudo and Abby in a split second. “What do you _mean_ , me and Xiangxiang?! She’s our clientele, why would you buy a room for us to share?”

“Hmm?” Laurent sounds amused but confused, humming softly on the other end of the phone. “Well, sweet Edamame, all I can say is that I approve of your tastes. I assume she’d want to be around to witness the plan go off without a hitch. You did say she tried to fight one of his lackeys, yes? That takes guts. All the better to see the top lackey get absolutely humiliated.” 

“But she’s got a shop to run with her mom and dad! They need her to help them!”

“It’ll only be for a week and I’ll pay them for the entire time that she’s off. Do you not want me to meet her in person? I didn’t expect you to be so _possessive_ , Edamame.” Laurent’s words only further Edamura’s troubles, trying desperately to not involve Niji in this in any way possible. “I could drop by to Taipei for a day or two to try and convince her-”

“NO! No, it’s fine! I’ll bring her, goddamnit! Just promise not to annoy or harm her in any way!” Edamura shakes his head with a sinking feeling in his gut. 

The more that Laurent comes to visit Taipei, the higher the chance of him meeting Xiang-Dorothy is and the more likely he’ll snap and probably never be able to complete the con. A resigned and pitiful sigh leaves the Japanese man’s body. He didn’t want this to happen and now he’ll have to watch over the French-speaking freak and his probable seduction of “Xiang-Niji”.

“Oh, okay then. Edamame, I hope to see you soon. See you soon, _mon chéri_!” And with that, the call clicks off.

Edamura groans and fell backward onto the seat. Kudo keeps driving while keeping a worried look on his face while Abby is frowning from being woken up. She’s taken off her outfit and now is wearing a hoodie and short jeans.

“Oi, pay-per-virgin, was that Idiot #1 doing something idiotic?” Edamura takes a glance over at Abby as she says this and nods.

“Uh-huh. Guess Niji is coming with us to Cape Town.”

Abby lets out a grunt of affirmation. “Guess that means Dorothy will be the only one left in Taiwan.” She found out from Edamura that Dorothy was alive the day after. She didn’t seem too shocked, acting blase as usual. She did seem surprised when Kudo told her how he found Edamura with his fist raised and Xiang-Dorothy crying but said it made sense afterward.

“Yeah… I have to break the news to them somehow.”

Fortunately, the breaking of the news came pretty quickly and without much drama. Despite Niji near fainting at the trio when they walked into her shop and her panicked shouts at so many people being inside the store that have broken multiple laws (“Oh, god, if they find out that you’re using my shop as a base they’ll have my store shut down! Eep!”), she seemed to be very calm about the change of events.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Edamura. It doesn’t seem like he wants me to be there for anything other than watching the other suffer, but Xiangxiang and I have already thought about this possibility. She’s willing to stay here in Taipei till the end.”

Edamura just sat back in relief at the reaction. Now that he’s gotten that done with, he’ll have to connect back with a few of his contacts. Maybe check out the vineyards again, go check on the hotel and how Sithembele is doing (which seems to be fine, seeing as he had texted him just a week ago saying how he got promoted somewhere), maybe get a cup of coffee again from Estia. They’d be great for providing him good info on the city too. 

It was all coming together.

* * *

**ONE WEEK LATER, AT AN AIRPORT IN LONDON, ENGLAND**

[From: Edamame]

_Laurent, we just landed in Cape Town. We’ll be on the way to the hotel._

[From: Stupid Blonde Bastard]

_Good to hear. I’m just about to board my flight with Cynthia from Heathrow. Can’t wait to see you XOXO._

As Laurent pockets his phone, he feels a shiver run up his spine. It’s like something was behind him… Using a quick step, he spins around and comes face-to-face with Cynthia who is smirking at him quite smugly.

“Expecting someone, Thierry?”

The blonde man took a second to look at her up and down then let a seductive smirk grace his features. “Just you and your stunning features as always, Cynthia.”

“Flirt all you want, old man, because once you get to South Africa I can see you not leaving your room in exchange for quality alone time with a certain vegetable boy.” Cynthia shot back mercilessly, expecting the older man to humor her. Instead, however, he shrugged his shoulders and grabbed his carry-on bag.

“Our flight is leaving now, Moore. I’m about ready to get some champagne and pop a Benadryl in first class, it’ll be a nice relaxer for our near 12-hour flight.” Laurent kept talking to the air about first class and the food they’ll eat as they walked off, but Cynthia was more interested in the deflection at her words. Ignoring Edamame AND calling her by her last name? There’s something to be gleaned from there.

Something was in the works.

* * *

**TWO DAYS PRIOR IN CAPE TOWN, SOUTH AFRICA**

Stretching her back, Estia was ready to end the day. She hadn’t taken a break just yet and her muscles were still sore from pulling cookies out of the large oven. If only Nelius hadn’t pulled a muscle yesterday, she would have been fine and not cursing her sons for extending their spring break in Australia to a few more days.

Her head snapped back to the front door and she made a once-over of the person at the entrance. Well, she was certainly a keeper, that’s for sure. Estia cracked her knuckles and began rubbing her hands.

“Welcome! What can I get you, we got sarmies and cups of joe. If you wait a moment, I can get you some of our famous clementine cookies! My husband would have gotten them quick but because he pulled a back muscle, he’ll be back for a few days. He needed the rest, but making short ol’ me pull cookies out of this monster of an oven? Not likely, ha!”

“One house coffee and three clementine cookies, please.” The woman says as she smiles at Estia when she takes a seat at the counter.

“Coming right up!” As the older Afrikaans woman started brewing her cup, she decided to start a conversation with her since the shop was entirely empty except for them.

“Are you visiting, stukkie? You look like a tourist.”

“Really? I haven’t been out in so long! This is my first time out of my country in a decade.”

“Wow, so long! I hope your trip is good. Where are you coming from? You don’t seem to be from up North, I can tell that for sure.”

“Taiwan.”

Estia’s eyes open up in surprise, pouring a steaming cup of coffee out for the woman. “Taiwan? Damn, wouldn’t have guessed it with the way you look. No offense, though.”

“It’s fine! I’m just happy to be here.”

“I’m happy you get to be here, enjoying my coffee! I make a damn good cup of joe and these hands prove it!” To prove her words correct, Estia throws out her hands and shows off her calluses and burn marks. “But you got some nice dainty hands! Better hide that piece of jewelry at night, though, or else someone might mug you.”

The woman looks down at her gem-encrusted ring and laughs, a soft one filled with sorrow. “Yeah, that would be pretty unfortunate. I've almost lost it once before, in the past.”

“So, here’s your cookies and coffee!” The oblivious Estia slaps down a large cup of coffee and a plate of four citrusy cookies. She leans in close to her customer, feinting a whisper. “Don’t tell anyone I gave you an extra one! They might fire me…” But just as she finishes that sentence, a chortle lets loose from her belly.

“So, what’s your name? I’m Estia Ngcobo!”

Xiang-Dorothy picks up a cookie from the plate, bites into it, and moans delightfully. “Wow, this is delicious! Oh, my name is Mawaza. Nice to meet you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Because holy shit THINGS ARE HAPPENING AHHHHHH.
> 
> The con will commence in 5,4,3,2...👀
> 
> Leave a comment and kudos if you want more ;) And we hit 200 kudos, so I have to write the Laurent one-shot 😮
> 
> Fic Notes:
> 
> So, I'll be referring to Dorothy as Xiang-Dorothy outside of dialogue, but she'll be referred to as three names over the course of the story:  
> Xiangxiang  
> Dorothy  
> Mawaza (if you know why I chose this name, try to guess in the comments! I think it's pretty clever.)
> 
>  _Manzai_ is a Japanese comedic act between two people, one being the _boke_ , or stupid man who messes up all the jokes, and the _tsukkomi_ , or straight man who punishes the stupid man. It's a pretty popular trope in Japan.
> 
> More South African Slang!  
> Sarmie - Sandwich  
> Stukkie - Girl
> 
> No coffee explanation this chapter 😭 Hopefully I'll have one next chapter, who knows...


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